A Whole New Light
by PossumSoul
Summary: She jumped in, ready never to look back. She just lost everything she's supposed to care about, but she only cares about her partner. And now, she's ready for the relationship she's truly wanted. (Immediately post-Always AU) *COMPLETE*
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: With the separation, and there being no Castle this Monday night. I think some of us need to be reminded of the night that brought them together, and the night that started it all.**

 **I know that this is a very well worn road taken by many a fanfiction writer. But I've never read one that explored what they were feeling, what they were thinking before hand, what was really going through their minds as they did the things they did. So I decided to give it a shot. Rated M for obvious reasons. I'm thinking of just making it a few chapters, probably ending on the morning after depending on the response I get. If people like it enough, I may turn it into an AU. Who knows. Let me know!  
**

* * *

 _"Are you sure you'll be alright by yourself, I could come home."_ She says loudly enough to drown out her friends.

"No, Alexis. I got a thousand cable channels, I got my Xbox. _You_ have fun!" He tells her. He remembers his graduation party. Or more accurately, doesn't remember much past actually arriving at it.

 _"And you promise you wont worry about me?"_ She asks, a tone that of a daughter not wanting her dad showing up to check on her.

"I will not worry about you until lunch time, tomorrow." He assures her. He spent the last eighteen years teaching her right from wrong and trusts her to either make right decisions, or make sure he never finds out about the bad ones.

Her friends shout, the line breaking up over the storm. _"Okay, Dad. I love you!"_

"I love you too." He says, not sure if she heard him over the howl of her friends crowding the car she's in.

He smiles, knowing his little girl is grown and couldn't be any more proud of her if he tried to be, but still knows that despite her objections, she will always be his little girl. He lifts up her tassel and gently hangs it on the lamp, smoothing it down. He admitted to himself a very long time ago that there wasn't much he could be about her growing up besides help guide her on whatever path she felt was right. He knows that today was only the start of her accomplishments, and he'll make sure he's there for all the rest of them also.

His phone lets out a ring and at first, he smiles, thinking that it's her again, making sure that he's really going to be fine on his own tonight. But when he looks down to the table, everything falls. His chest tightens, his heart pumps a shot of cold blood through him and the smile that he was hoping wouldn't fade at all tonight disappears.

Her picture is smiling up at him, and whereas it used to bring one to him, now it just feels like she's mocking him, telling him that she can be this way without him, almost like a jaded ex. He can't talk to her right now, and wouldn't know what to say if he could. He's said all he can to get her to come around. All he can think of and she still didn't listen. Ironic in some way since he's suppose to be a writer. He rejects the call and sets his phone back down.

He can't keep thinking about her. He needs to stop. The sooner he does, the sooner this dull ache will go away. It wasn't even his case. Turning on his smart board, he sees the same mocking picture of her that he just got rid of. He slowly walks over to it, lifting up a hand that feels heavy and taps it.

Wasted time, wasted effort, everything feels wasted. Work with no results, toil with no reward, labor with no fruit. He only did all this for her. So she could get the closure she wanted and move on... and move on with him. But it's all been for nothing. And he needs to stop. It's over and he's given up.

He lifts another heavy hand and slides his finger against the screen, moving the folder icon the few inches in needs to be deleted. A symbolic gesture, nothing more. A means to start the long process of purging everything of her from his life. The feelings, the want, the connection they had. They could have been something amazing, could have. But now, it seems like a story that didn't get an ending. An old tale told over the years that was always left up to the reader to figure out.

He lets out a long breath, relaxing himself and forcing her from his mind.

A knock on his door breaks him from his thoughts and gives him an excuse to focus on something completely different. In any other circumstances, he'd want to be alone right now. But he knows he needs to distract himself with whatever presents itself, even if it's something as menial as answering the door.

He quickly makes his way across the loft, forcing a small smile to greet whoever it is at the door and pulls it open.

But he feels himself harden and ice over when he does. She just can't stop, can she? He thinks about shutting the door without a word, even slamming it to make some kind of point. But if he knows her, it wouldn't stop her. He doesn't have it in him to yell at her to leave him alone, wishes he did though. "Beckett, what do you want?" He asks, not interested at all in her sure to be half-assed answer.

"You."

* * *

"What you did dishonors this city, _and_ dishonors the badge! Not only are you off this investigation, I'm putting you both on administrative leave, effective immediately."

"Sir-"

"Don't you 'sir' me." Gates hisses. She thought that she would be given a chance to explain, but the cold, shameful, almost disdainful look Gates is shooting through her is unlike one she's ever been given. "You don't deserve to wear the uniform." She wants to argue with herself, for part of her to tell her that Gates is wrong. But she can't. Gates isn't right, but the things she told herself to justify all of this don't make sense anymore. Everything she's told herself to justify her actions over the years just don't make sense. She doesn't know what she's doing this for anymore. She's all but lost sight of her purpose. "Now hand over your badges and guns." Gates orders them, turning on a heel and planting one hand against her hip.

She hears Javi removing his badge from around his neck and unclipping his holster behind her then sees him set them on Gates's desk. But she's frozen. She can't even think of a reason to fight for this. This is suppose to be the most important thing in her life... isn't it? She's dedicated her life to this job, to a cause that she thought was making some kind of difference in the world. But she can't even muster up enough back bone to fight for it? "Detective Beckett?"

Kate decides to just give in and takes off her holster and sets it down next to Javi's, then reaches for her badge. But when she looks at it...

This badge has empowered her. Used to anyway. It used to drive her, but now she just doesn't care. She feels herself smile bitterly at the thought that she doesn't care about any of this. She knows she probably should, but she doesn't. "Keep it." She says, tossing her badge down onto her desk. She looks back up to Gates, confidence rising in her that she's doing the right thing as her now former Captain's expression goes blank. "I resign."

She turns around slowly, feels both sets of eyes on her, at least one of them waiting for her to take it back. But she just opens the door to Gates's office and goes over to her desk. She should feel heavy hearted, or maybe angry, furious even that Gates didn't see it her way or even let her explain. But she doesn't. After collecting her things in her bag and turning to walk out, she stops and turns back. She was hoping to feel something close to nostalgia, but all she feels is anger.

Anger at this job for letting it take so much from her. She turns back again and heads for the elevator, briefly meeting eyes with Javi as he walks out. He's stone faced as he's been all day. A thought shoots through her mind and she wonders if he'll come back. But it's gone when the elevator doors close behind her. Alone, not having to keep up appearances for anyone, she feels her heart start to beat harder.

She's let this job take everything from her. Her future used to be in this job, in this precinct. But she couldn't see it anymore. But worst... she let it take him. Her breath catches then. She let this job take him from her. He begged her, with tears in his eyes for her to stop. Prideful, she refused, and he walked away. For the first time in four years, he wasn't there, and it's all her fault.

It's all her fault.

She makes it back to her apartment in a daze, thoughts swirling around her mind so quickly she hasn't had time to formulate a single one clearly. She walks in the door, sets her bag down heavily, and knows she can't stay here. She doesn't bother to even walk back inside, change, grab a quick piece of fruit, she just turns back around and shuts the door.

It's dark, even darker with the storm overhead. People around her are starting to quicken their pace when a soft crack of thunder rolls over head, but she just start to slowly meander in the first direction her feet take her.

 _"For four years, I've been right here. Four years, just waiting for you to just open your eyes and see that I'm right here!"_ She feels her heart crack when his words ring in her head.

She thought she was doing the right thing. But now... now she sees that she was so wrapped up in her chase that she didn't once just stop. Stop and think about why he was really doing it. Why he was keeping all of it from her. She was so quick to blame him, so quick to put him in the wrong, to come up with reasons as to why he should have told her that now seem so ill-conceived, hair brained. He begged her to stop. He told her why he kept coming around all these years, and she's known. Even before the day he tackled her to the ground with a weight pressing into her so hard she couldn't respond. Never let herself admit it, own up to it.

He's always been right there. Right in front of her. Looking back on it all, he was always right there.

It isn't until another loud clap of thunder that she realizes that it just started pouring. She lets out another breath, can do nothing but let the rain soak her clothes. She keeps walking down the street, having no real direction until she sees through the thick curtain of water and realizes where she is. She sees them, the same swing set where she, in a matter of subtext, told him that she needed time, and that if he just waited, they could be together.

She walks through the mud and sits down in the same swing that she did that afternoon, looking down at the one he sat in. He loves her.

He loves her.

She repeats it to herself more times than she can count. She doesn't care that Maddox just got away. She doesn't care that the man behind her mom's murder is still out there. She doesn't care she just quit her job. She doesn't care she almost died. She doesn't feel something pulling her to pursue them anymore, doesn't feel guilt for wanting to let go of it all. She doesn't feel her heart being blocked off by it, she doesn't feel herself being held back by anything. She feels... free.

She looks up from his swing and knows. The only thing she wants... is him.

She can feel a smile curl onto her face at the realization. She only wants him, nothing else. Her ambitions have narrowed down to nothing else but him. She feels herself crying but knows it's pointless to wipe the tears away. She stands back up and walks through the mud, quicker, with purpose.

She walks down the street toward his loft with everything passing through her mind. All those little moments, and the times it was just staring her in the face, all the times it should have been the most obvious thing in the world. She was always happiest with him around. Always at her best with him around. And she let him just walk out the door. How could she just let him slip through her fingers. He's been there the whole time, waiting for her. Because he loves her. She breaths a sob when she thinks that. He loves her.

She stops, knowing what street she's on and looks up. His lights are on. She feels her blood rush through her veins, briefly making her aware of just how wet her clothes feel against her skin. She takes a step forward, but freezes when she sees a shadow slowly drift its way across the ceiling of his loft. It's only then that she remembers how much she hurt him, how much she has to own up to, how much she has to apologize for, how much she has to explain. She breaths slowly, shuttering on the way out and she quickly digs out her phone, the inside of her pocket turning inside out when she peels it out.

She slides her thumb across the screen, pressing the cold plastic of her phone against her ear then looking back up to the window. It rings twice, the shadow she sees on the ceiling still before the ringing stops and she hears his voice mail message. When she sees the shadow start drifting away, she lets her arm fall back to her side. She takes another breath, her heart still beating faster than it should be. But it feels right.

She quickly makes her way across the street and through the lobby, abruptly aware of just how soaked to the bone she is when she's out of the rain. But she doesn't care. She heads up the stairs and enters the hallway that leads to his door. Standing in front of it, she's scared. But she finally understands. She wants him. She wants to be with him. She doesn't care about anything else anymore. She raises her hand, pausing before knocking with more force than she realized she had in her, her heart beating rapidly in three different places.

She hears the knob turn, sees the door open, and then him. The look his smile falls into makes her feel so small. He's never looked at her like that. "Beckett, what do you want?"

Her breath gets deeper, her heart beats faster, and she knows. "You."

Her shaky legs take a large step forward, and he takes a step back when she reaches for him. His face is so warm, his jaw smooth, and she can already smell him, his eyes overtaken by surprise but still shine with the same bright blue she's fell into more times she can count. When their lips meet, it fires through her like the lightning bolt that just crashed outside. Everything on her curls and the breath she just took in is filled with more life than she's ever felt before. His lips are even softer than she told herself she remembers.

She feels another tear leak out onto her cheek and keeps her hands cradling his strong jaw. Guilt, pain, remorse, hatred for her actions, wishing she could take everything she did to him back all comes to surface in that tear. "I'm so sorry, Castle."

He breaths heavily, his warm breath fanning off her, warming her cold skin. "I'm so sorry." She whispers to him. Wants to say it as many times as she can. "I'm so sorry." She lets out the rest of her breath and pushes up to kiss him again. And in that second, when she feels his lips press against her and she feels his hands grasp her arms, she feels her heart explode. But is shaken out of it by the feeling of her being pulled off of him.

She opens her eyes and sees him looking down to her, the hard etched blank expression he greeted her with replaced with a soft arch in his brow, a soft worry conveyed in his eyes. "What happened?" He asks her softly, not taking his hands off her arms.

She looks down to the buttons on his shirt and hopes she can tell him in a way that will help him understand. "He got away, and I didn't care." She says just above a whisper and looks up to him, a smile lifting onto her lips that won't stop tingling. "I almost died." She tells him, remembering exactly what she was thinking out on that ledge. "And all I could think about was you." His hands feel strong on her arms, his mere presence inches in front of her making it feel like she hadn't just walked through a down pour. "I just want you."

She presses up, opening her lips to kiss him again, wanting more than anything to feel his lips on her again, but she feels him pulling back, retreating. She steps back down and looks into his eyes again, clouded with uncertainty... but only for an instant. His hands grip her tighter, his eyes darkening as a clash of thunder cracks behind him and she feels herself being pushed back.

Her body goes weightless in a slow wave as she opens her lips to him, feeling his forceful hands push her back. His lips enclose over hers and she feels their heat envelope her, what feels like a hell of a lot more than four years worth of feelings left hanging coming back in one fiery rush that won't go away. His soft lips move against hers, her hand softly cradling his jaw. He presses hard against her lips, his hands gripping so tight and seeming to move so fast, they're everywhere at once.

Her heart pounding inside her chest, her breath getting harder and ragged with every motion, she puts her hands anywhere they'll go, against his strong back, in his soft hair. Anywhere. He's demanding. Pressing her back against his door so hard, it feels as if he's only things keeping her from falling apart. He kisses his way, straying from her lips and she can't do anything but let him. He finds her neck, made acutely aware of how her pulse point is throbbing by his tongue lavishing it.

He kisses lower, breaths against her harder. She'd never thought it would be this amazing, surrendering to him. He kisses her chest, the cold rush of her he lets out through his nose rushing down her shirt. He stops, and given a moment that she didn't want to take, she knows what he sees.

Her skin is soft, warm. He can feel the blood course through her, getting faster and faster with each pass his tongue made against her. But now, looking down at that small, almost pin prick of skin in the center of her chest, in that moment, she looks so fragile. He feels her lips pull him back to her. It's the first kiss they've shared that he's had time to actually feel. She kisses him slowly, her soft lips completely in sync with his. He raises his hand, but stops.

Even though even about her is telling there are no more lines to cross, that she wants to be with him, that this is _real_ , he feels freezes when his hand is just inches away from her scar. But he keeps kissing her. Slowly and as sensually as he can, reveling in how amazing it all feels. He's assured it's all real, that she's hear when he feels her softly grasp his hand and press it to her. He feels her heart beating and he knows that she's there.

He kisses her again and feels her lips drift off in a way that tells him she's smiling. She softly grazes her nose against his before her eyes looks back up to him.

She bits her lip and feels her reaching down, her fingers gently running down his arm until they grasp his hand. The look in her eyes is absolute. Certainty sparkling in the edges of her pupils. The last few minutes before she showed up seem a lifetime away. She's here. He's dreamed about this more times than he can count. But she's really here.

Walking past him, softly tugging him along with her, he's sure. She doesn't have any doubts.

She just wants him.


	2. Chapter 2

He's dreamed about this. Ran it through his head so many times, he lost count before he even started keeping track. He even had a clear idea of what he would do when this happened, if it ever did. But now, feeling her walk him through his office, he's trying to think of everything he ran through his head to get them through this in a way that would make it memorable, make it special. But even just a few minutes ago, he felt out of control.

She turns, still tugging gently at his hand until she stops at the foot of his bed. He looks her over to make sure that it's really her. When he's sure, he looks into her eyes, looking for pensiveness, fear, anxiety maybe. But all he can see is darkness, and if he's correct... lust. Her whole body language, everything about her saying to him 'Take me.'

He's frozen by her, still unable to think of the scenario he thought of long ago for this situation. Maybe he should just let his actions go autonomous, letting himself do what he will and just be there to revel in the feeling of it all.

He hears her breathing, ragged almost. He wants to be able to take in all of her, every little movement she's making, every smell she's emitting, every sound she makes. He wants to remember it all. But as he's trying this, all he can focus on is her eyes. When she slowly reaches up to her shoulders and pulls her shirt down, showing him the golden skin she wants him to feel, he feels a nervous sweat rush over him. Her wet shirt falls to the floor with a light plop, leaving the straps of her bra hanging off her shoulder.

She takes a small step forward, making the first move to close the distance between them in a bedroom lighted only by intermittent flashes of lightning. She raises her hands, putting them on his chest, her dainty fingers going to the first button on his shirt. He reaches up and ghosts his hands along her arms. He wants her to look at him again. There's a connection when their eyes meet now, and he knows she feels it. But she seems focused on her fingers slowly working at the buttons on his shirt.

He grasps her sides and he hears her breath catch in a light gasp. Her head is still turns upward, as if she's suppose to be looking up to him, but her eyes are still down, watching her fingers slowly work their way down, about half way through. He can't stop himself anymore. He leans forward and captures her lips. The hands on her sides move around to her back and press her into him and her's go through the open space on his shirt. He shivers at how cold her hands are.

Their kiss is long, slow, purposeful, both of them fighting a battle they are both happily losing. Her hands slide up his sides, up the expanse of his chest until he feels her grab onto his collar and tug at it. She pulls away, but keeps their lips in a tight seal against each other. He doesn't tell himself to do anything, but he is. His hands are pressing against her, he's leaning forward and she's pulling _them_ back. Not her, wanting to retreat, a fear racing through the only synapse in his brain not dedicated to her right now.

He feels her start to dip and her arms quickly snake themselves around him. He keeps her pressed into him while his other hand gently lowers them onto his bed. When she feels her back hit against his mattress, she uncoils her arms and leans back fully, letting her head fall back. Her hands run over his shoulders, down his biceps, then back over his chest. She's breathing hard, her heart racing at the feeling of having him on top of her. The firm weight of him is, for once making her feel safe, secure.

It's never been that way. It always made her feel trapped and suffocated. But with him...

He isn't making a move. He's just looking down at her, watching her hands move over him. She always thought that when this finally happened, that their clothes would have been off by now, torn in a few places, scattered in a path leading to his bedroom. Because that's the way he always was with her.

He was always so unyielding around her, and that when it finally came to this, it wouldn't be any different. That he still wouldn't give up any ground to her.

But maybe he held back. Maybe there's so much he held back for so long, he doesn't know how to let go.

But there's no more egg shells to walk on. She doesn't want there to be. In imagery, the flood gate has opened, and she doesn't want any of the rushing water to stop. She wants it to all come out. She wants to be the person that she's always wanted to be around him, but hasn't because it wasn't her place to be. But now...

Now he's gently applying more of his weight against her, softly steamrolling her body with his as he leans down to kiss her. She leans up to meet his lips, but he ends up pressing her back down with a forceful push of his lips against hers. Every time his soft, warm, wet lips make a pass against hers, her heart beats faster, harder. Her blood feels thicker inside her veins. And she never wants to get used to it.

Her body was cold, almost shivering when he first grabbed hold of it. But now, it's warm, mewling and slithering against him more and more with each kiss. First it's her legs, moving from being draped over the edge of the bed to up to his, vicing him. Then it's her hands, her palms sliding over his chest, her thumbs hooking around his shirt, pushing it off of his shoulders.

When she hooks her heel around his calf, a burst of heat shoots through her when he grabs her thigh and tugs it up to his waist. She lets out a sharp groan that gets caught by a yelp when he presses his lips to her wind pipe. She curls her legs around him the same time he pushes her up his bed.

Letting out a shuddering breath, she moves her hands to his jaw, not wanting to end the incredible motions his lips are lavishing against her neck, but wanting more to kiss him, to _do_ something, to participate. He kisses her quicker now, lighter, but with more eagerness.

His weight is lifted off her, and it's only a moment before she realizes why. She hears him tugging at his shirt, untucking it and hers the it being tossed across the room. He pushes himself up the bed, his hips pressing harder against her makes her moan. She quickly moves her hands over his chest again, over his tense muscles before her fingers wrap around the top of his slacks. She tried her hardest to keep up with his eager lips, kissing her with a speed and a passion she's trying to match while concentrating on undoing his belt.

Fumbling, she finally hears the buckle fall out then forcefully undo the button. Her breath catches when she pushes the zipper down, her hand being brushes against him. It's when her hands move to his sides again that she feels his hands on her stomach. Her breath, once in sync with the quick motions of his lips, gets faster the lower his hand goes.

And he's doing just as he thought he would. He's letting his actions go off by themselves. He felt his mouth want to kiss her faster, and he did. All he could do really is just feel her lips respond in more kind he feels he deserves from her. She puts her hands on his sides again. But when he moves his hand to her stomach, his knuckles brushing against her naval, her nails softly dig into his skin.

He realizes what he's doing as he's doing it and only when it's too late for him to stop. His lips leave hers and he moves down her. He kisses everywhere the path takes him. Her neck, collar bone, stopping at her chest. His hand slips around her back and, with well trained and experienced fingers, unclasps her bra. She lets out a loud breath that sounds like a chuckle and he takes it off, flinging it in the first direction his arm goes.

Her hands are on his shoulders, her legs still curled around him, more around his midsection now. His mouth is on her exposed breast the instant her bra is out of the way. She presses up against him, arching her back and tightening everything she has around him. While he does everything he's wanted to her breast, it only lasts a few seconds before her breaths gets ragged, her moans getting louder and shaky. He can't think anything of it, too wrapped up in what she feels like until her whole body shakes under him, her breath broken and shuddering, her body feeling warmer under his touch than ever before and the tight grip her nails had on his shoulders now loose and slack, her hands simply laying limply on his back.

He looks up to her, seeing her head fallen back, a smile gracing her puffed lips and her chest heaving under his chin. "Was what just happened what I think it was?" He asks her.

She lets out a laugh and her hand goes into his hair. "Yeah... it was." She says with labored breath.

"We don't even have our pants off yet." He states simply. He hopes desperately that this isn't over. He's never had this happen to him before.

"Then keep going." She says, weaving her fingers through his hair. "I just forgot what a great kisser you are, that's all."

He smiles and slowly leans back down, his lips going to her breast again, her chest still heaving with her deep breaths. He feels her legs move against him, but doesn't pay much attention, focused on continuing his journey down her body, until he hears her heels boots hit the floor with a clatter. He moves his hands to her waist then, softly tugging at her pants. They're tight fitting, thankfully like everything she usually wears, but they're wet and clinging to her skin. He sits up and sees her hands scrunching in the comforter and shes eyeing him dangerously.

His lungs fill up with air that feels prickly, his hands going weak for a minute. It's her shimmying her hips in his hands that breaks him out of it. In the soft light she's being illuminated by, throwing dark shadows over the soft curves of her undefined abs, the perfect size of her bare breasts, the smirk she's giving him from her beautiful face... he feels his mouth go dry.

"Castle..." She shakes him back to the moment, and what he was doing.

"Right." He says, starting to tug the soaked fabric off of her.

"You know, I thought that my pants would be the first to go." She teases in a voice where he can even _hear_ her smile.

"And I thought we'd do end up doing this a _long_ time ago."

"Then don't waste anymore time." She says, her voice quickly going husky.

He slips the fabric off, finally, with her help as she lifts her legs out of them, turning her soaked jeans inside out and kicking them off. She surprises him by wrapping her now bare, long, glorious legs around him, grabbing his neck and pulling him back done. He lets out a loud moan against her fierce lips. He always knew she had this side, but could always imagine what it would do to him.

Her hands go back to his slacks, ungracefully shoving them off, but by her movements, he can tell that she doesn't want to stop kissing him. She raises her legs, feeling his blood pump harder and lower when her naked legs move against him. He starts kicking his pants off when she manages to push them off with her feet.

He moves against her, pushing himself up while her hands clamor on his back, not wanting a space between them. "Beckett, I don't have-"

"Don't worry about it."

"But, Kate-"

Her hands grab onto his jaw, "Don't... worry about it."

He wants to ask why, but she stops him by forcing her lips on him again. Her legs wrap around him tightly again, pulling him to her.

He feels the air ex-spell out of him when he feels just how wet she is against him. A thought shoots through his mind that there really is no turning back now. If nothing changed before now, it's about to change everything. With a slow kiss, he slowly pushes into her.

She takes in a shaky breath past his lips, her fingers pressing hard into his scalp. He sits inside of her and it isn't until she pushes her hips against him that he pulls back out, only to gently slide all the way back in. This action repeats itself a few more times before the pace is finally set. When he first grabbed her and pushes his door shut with her, even before then probably, she always thought he'd be more energetic, quick to take control, probably even more selfish. But it feels like he's being so... tender. Not wasting a single moment.

Never mind the fact she has more pent up sexual frustration that she wants to admit, and the fact that his lips are working against the nape of her neck again, she feels her stomach start to flutter and her center start to tighten for the second time in less than ten minutes. Her hands move up his back and grab his shoulders and her lips find his ear. "Castle..." She breathes against him.

She feels herself uncoil when he tugs her ass against him. As her breath shudders and her heart goes erratic, the feeling of him inside her while it's happening just adds to it all. When she finally starts to slowly come down from the euphoric rush that overcame her senses, she reminds herself that no one as ever made her feel this way. But it isn't just physical.

Absolutely, he's doing things to her that no man has ever bothered to do, but that's not it. It has to be the emotional connection they have. Maybe what they're doing isn't just sex. Maybe its... maybe they're making love.

She presses against this jaw again and moves his lips back to hers. This thought consumes her. This means so much more to her now. She's made the mistake of doing this hoping to make an emotional connection. But she's never done this _because_ there was an emotional connection. And she can't even begin to deny that it's there. After all... he loves her.

She tightens her arms around his neck when that thought rings in her head again. His lips make another soft, slow pass against hers and she shifts her hips, pushing against him and rolling them over.

Her mouth doesn't leave his as she slowly grinds against him. She feels his hands start mapping her body. Moving against her thighs, around her ass and making her teeth sink down into his lip, up her spine, down her arms, up her stomach then cupping her breasts. She arches against his hands, but only until his arms wrap around her and pull her against him.

It isn't until her lips move down his rough stubble that she realizes that her hips have started to slide against him much faster. And when she does, she can't stop. She presses against his chest and sits up, her hips still sliding against him. She feels her stomach start to coil again and her head falls back in silent laughter. If every time is like this, they're going to have an amazing sex life. She rolls her head back around and sees him softly smirking up to her. Even in the dim darkness of his bedroom, she can see the baby blue sparkle in his eye.

She looks down at his hands framing her thighs and she reaches down. She's never done this, and has always drawn the line here because it was always too intimate. But now, she can't stop. She weaves her fingers through his and entwines their hands together. Looking down at their hands like this, she feels her heart erupts.

"Rick..." She says, emotion rising up her throat.

He tugs at her hands and pulls her forward, moving their enjoined hands behind her back and pressing her against him, his lips finding hers with ease. When he starts rising up to meet her hips, quickening the pace, she lets go of his hands reluctantly and snakes her arms around his neck. With the hard, erratic thump that is her heartbeat and the tight coiling in her stomach and the tightening of every muscles in her body, and the knowledge that this is just the start of something truly beautiful, she feels him go off kilter.

"Kate-" He strains out against her lips.

"Don't worry about it." She says with just as much strain in her voice.

He lets out a groan, muted by her lips sealing themselves tightly over his when she feels herself unwrap and feels him spilling into her.

She's laying limp on top of him, her body still vibrating every time he starts pulling out of her. The feeling of his chest quickly rising and falling against her, the warmth of his neck on her lips, his hands still roving over her back, a thought races through her mind that this should be all too much for her to handle. She's never let herself get this emotionally attached, this emotionally invested or involved. But her heart didn't give her a choice.

And right now, it _should_ feel like it's too much. This feeling in her chest is usually the point where she says she needs space. But she can't.

She rolls herself off of him, but shimmies herself into the cove of his side. She wraps her arm back around his torso, summoning what little strength she has left in her and hugs him to her. His arm holds her to him, feeling the plush comforter being pulled over them.

She burrows deeper into his embrace, the rise and fall of his chest lulling her to sleep.

He presses his lips to her hair when she squeezes him like an over-sized teddy bear and holds her. He can tell she's already asleep. In his head, there was always more witty banter between them afterward. But in his head, this happened a long time ago. But being with her... she was perfect. He wouldn't change a damn thing. Especially now, feeling her leg vine itself around his leg and her snuggle herself against him.

 _She'll be here in the morning, don't worry, Rick._ He tells himself as he burrows himself deeper into the covers he pulled over them. It's only the start of something amazing, and as much as he's looking forward to every single one, he can't wait to take whatever journey she wants to, step by step.

He wants to see how this story ends, but can tell that he'll have too much fun taking it page by page to worry about it.

* * *

 **A/N: I would tell you that I tried not to make it 50-shades-of-grey-esque, but I've never actually read that book. I know some people are picky when it comes to sex scenes, and honestly, I'm a little nervous about it. I've read my fair share, but never written one before. All I can ask is to be forgiving in your reviews.**

 **Also, decided to go AU after this chapter. So no, I will not just retell the episode. That would be rather pointless.**

 **And those following The Receiving End, I'm still working on the next chapter. Slow going, just tired of working on angsty stuff. Drains you with a quickness.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Really grateful for the awesome reviews I'm getting on this story. Glad you liked the last chapter. I've written too many scenes in my head for this story to just be left hanging. Hope you guys enjoy the rest of the story I have to tell.**

* * *

He feels himself wake up, still being pulled and seduced by the heavy sleep he just stirred from and rolls onto his back from his left side. He lets out a deep breath and feels his tired body relax.

When he hears the covers next to him shift and a warm, tiny hand graze a set of nails across his chest before finally coming to rest in the middle of his chest, his eyes pop open.

It's light in his bedroom, and there's someone running their hands over his bare chest... _bare_ chest? He looks down at the tiny hand laying on him and follows the skin, that the longer he looks at it, the more appealing and inviting it looks, and sees her. The memories come flooding back to him the instant he sees her face mashed into the pillow. His breath only goes down to his throat as the feelings from last night start filtering through, a mental flip book of their amazingly incredible night together.

He smiles and looks back down at her hand and reaches up and softly runs his finger over the back of her hand. Well... she's real. He looks back over to her and is taken aback by the sight he sees. She's always been so well manicured and well groomed that seeing her like this... for some reason he decides to figure out later, makes him love her even more.

Her hair is frizzy and sticking up in places it shouldn't be. She looks tired, but oddly well rested at the same time. Her make up, always applied perfectly and always in place, now has lines and faint smugges. He should know what stuff like that does, but decided a long time ago that the less he knows about things of that nature, probably the better. Ignorance is bliss, after all.

He carefully rolls over and reaches for her, gently pushes the hair in her face aside. She's never looked more beautiful to him than she does right now. When he rolls back over, she starts to stir. With a quiet moan, she lifts her head off her pillow and settles back down, opening her hazel eyes, meeting his as they do. It's only a second before a smile slowly erupts onto her face. "Hey..." She whispers.

He's silent, too mesmerized by her really being here, in his bed, with him, to respond. "Wow." He finally says.

She shifts closer to him and wraps her arm around his torso, just as she did if his faint memory of their final moments rings true. She moans and lays her head next to his shoulder. "What?" She asks, her tone saying she's talking in her sleep.

"Nothing, it's just... I can't believe you're still here."

He sees her eyes pop open and the faint smile she had adorning her face fly off. She quickly sits up on her elbow, looking down at him with a straightened brow and a scowl. "What's _that_ suppose to mean?"

He regretted using the words he did when they came out. He raises his hand to her, giving her an innocent brow. "It's... not..." He sighs and decides to be honest with her. "It's just you have a history of... retreating... when things have escalated between us. Then last night you come to my door and we, for what ever reason, end up in bed. So I guess I'm just surprised that you're... on board with... all this."

She looks down and sighs, scooting closer to him and reaching for his hand that lays next to her on the bed. She takes it on both of hers and sits up on her arms. "Castle, I know I have a history of... turtling." She says, making him smile at her word choice. "But I meant what I said last night." She tells him, her eyes looking down at his fingers that are wrapping around hers. She leans down and presses her lips to them for a few seconds before looking back up to him. "I just want you."

He's about to lean up and kiss her, until he sees her soft smile slowly fade and her eyes break away, looking down at their hands.

"If... you'll still have me."

Her voice is so small, but he can only wonder what it took for her to say that, and can only wonder what he did that she feels she needs to say it in the first place. "What?" He asks in a tone saying he doesn't want an answer.

"Castle, I know how much I've hurt you." She says, her eyes finally going back to him, silencing him. "And I know I can't apologize enough. But-" She cuts herself off, looking down to his hand again and running her finger up and down one of his. "Castle, I... the path that I've been following, it doesn't have a future that I see myself in. But I see one with you." She looks back up to him, the smile coming back to her face. "And I don't know where I'm going from here, but I do know that I see you with me."

He can't let the words sink in, because he knows it will take too long. He sits up and presses his lips to hers, feeling her squeeze his hand when he does. They kiss a few more times until he lays back down, feeling her lay her head back down onto his chest and drape her arm back over him. His hand curls her into him and he takes a deep breath.

She sees a future... with him. He's not the only one that sees it anymore. "I have to use the bathroom, but I don't want to get up." She says against him.

He lets out a small laugh and realizes he was thinking the same thing. He looks over to the night stand next to him and sees it's half past eight. "Well, you probably should. Shouldn't you be getting to work?"

He feels her shake her head against him, "Nope." She simply answers.

"What, are you calling in sick? Can you even do that?" He thinks out loud.

"No, I quit."

Everything thought stops and all he can think is he must have heard her wrong. "You what?" He sits up on his arms and she rolls off to her side looking up at him. She has such... conviction on her eyes, such certainty. But her job is everything to her. "You resigned?"

She nods, not looking away from him.

"But, Beckett... your job, it... it's everything to you, it brought _us_ together."

"That doesn't mean we need it to _keep_ us together."

"But, Kate-"

"Castle." She stops him, sitting up on her arm and putting a soft hand on his chest, looking at him with the same conviction she has been. "The only reason I became a cop in the first place was to catch whoever killed my mom. And yesterday, when I was looking down at my badge... for the first time, I didn't know what I was doing it for anymore. Castle, I want us to be together." She says, her hand going to his jaw. "I want more out of my life than that badge could ever give me."

For the second time this morning, or maybe the third time, he's lost count, she's amazed him. And just like before, all he can do is lean forward and kiss her. And just like before, they both linger than either of them intended. "So does that mean I can finally bring you breakfast in bed?"

Her face splits in two with a bright smile and her eyes sparkle. "As long I can use the bathroom first, cause I really have to..." She stutters as she crawls out of the tangled covers and quickly prances across the hardwood floor of his bedroom. He wonders if she realizes she's still naked, but is all too captivated by the sight of it to either care or speak up on the matter.

But he's brought out of it by the sight of a large dark welt on her side just before she closes the door.

* * *

She closes the door behind her and her eyes set onto the toilet immediately. She didn't want to get out of bed. It feels like she hasn't had a real day off in years, and spending the day in bed with her boyfriend... huh, boyfriend, not bothering to even get dressed sounds like a paradise she wouldn't want to leave. She quickly makes her way across the tile floor, until she passes the mirror.

She stops, taking a step back to look at herself. Good god...

She pushes her hair down to keep it from sticking up, but it just springs back up. She leans forward, looking at the face staring back at her, thinking it can't really be her. Is this thing really what he was talking to?

She lets out a huff of frustration and goes to the toilet.

After everything's done, she heads for the door, but catches her reflection in the mirror again and shudders. She doesn't even have anything here. She wants to go back out to him, but can't, knowing full well what she really looks like now. The rational part of her brain tells her that he obviously doesn't care. He looked at her like he always does. With that sparkle in his eye and a gleam in his boyish smile. But still...

She opens the door a crack, "Hey Castle?"

"Yeah?" He responds from what sounds like across the room.

"Do you mind if I take a shower?"

She hears his foot steps coming and she braces the door, not wanting him to see her again. "Is that an invitation?" He asks her in a deep voice.

"No, it's a request. I look like the thing from the black lagoon."

She hears him chuckle. "Make yourself at home, Beckett. And please, don't rush yourself on my account." He says, his tone changing in an instant.

"I won't take long, I promise." She's about to shut the door but he stops her with his soft, caring voice.

"Kate..." She opens the door slightly, listening intently. "I saw the bruising." She looks down at the large dark spots on her sides, even her breath starting to feel scratchy in her throat. Ecstasy must be one hell of a pain killer. "Please... take as much time as you need."

She hears him walk off and she closes the door. She always knew how great of a man he is, how caring and nurturing he is if his relationship with his daughter is any evidence. But seeing it directed toward her, to have him caring for her, the thought that his only concern is her well being...

She wipes the tears from her eye and opens the glass door to his shower.

* * *

Back out in the kitchen, he whips the batter, pressing the button on the remote next to him to turn on the house stereo. He laughs at fates decision of Mac The Knife as the song to play. Fitting for them.

It's been a half an hour, but he'll wait all day for her if he has to. Well, at least till noon when he meets Alexis for lunch. Still three hours until he starts worrying about that though.

He feels he should ask what happened to her, but he doesn't want to know. He knows that if she tells him, he'll blame himself for not being there for her when she needed him, for being selfish and just walking away when she needed him, that maybe if he wasn't she wouldn't have had to go through whatever she went through.

He stops that train of thought before it can leave the station. She's here, she's safe, and she wants to move forward. And taking that train of thought is not the way to do it.

Feeling the skillet is warm, he steps over and pours the batter in two large circles. He looks up and sees her walking out in a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt, her hair back in a wet, curly pony tail. She's tugs at the hem of the t-shirt before she looks up to him as she makes her way through loft and over to him. "Where'd this come from? Is this Alexis's?"

"Actually, you left some things here when you stayed here after your apartment blew up." He tells her, watching her slowly saunter her way around the island and over to him. "I was going to return them, but... never really got around... to it." He says, caught off guard by her coming up to him and leaning up, planting a light kiss on his jaw.

"What, were they going to be a part of closet shrine or something?" She jokingly asks as she makes her way around him and to the coffee cup sitting on the counter.

"Why, would that be creepy?"

She lips her cup to her lips, trying to hide her smile. "Pancakes, huh?"

"Well, after you went through whatever it is you went through, and..." He looks over to her after flipping them over, "after last night, I figured we'd indulge ourselves with..." He grabs the two bags sitting next to him and holds them in front of his face, then moving them apart after a second, "smiley face, chocolate chip and marshmallow pancakes."

She smile brightens and she raises her brow. "Chocolate chip and marshmallows?"

"Would you rather have them in an omelet?"

"Ew!" She says with a face screwed in disgust.

"Am I the only one that likes that?" He asks, turning back to skillet and opening the bags.

She lets out a breath and steps up to his side, lifting his arm and putting his arm around her, putting her cheek down against the soft, plush fabric of his robe, lifting her coffee cup to her lips again. "So... since I'm out of a job," She starts and looks up to him, her cheek still resting on his strong shoulder, "what do you think we should do today?"

"Well, I have a lunch date with Alexis, but, after that," He asks, turning off the skillet and turning to her and snaking his arms around her, "I'm all yours."

A thought enters her mind, and with everything that's changed, and with the unsettled relationship between her and his daughter, she isn't sure what she would want more. For her to know or not know. "Castle, with Alexis... I don't think you should mention us... just yet."

"What? Why?"

"Well Castle, I don't think Alexis has ever really been on board with the thought of you and me. And you and her are so close, and I don't want to come in between that."

"Beckett, Alexis looks up to you. And she knows how I feel about you." He wants to tell his daughter about them, mainly because he doesn't want to lie to her. But can understand his girlfriends... huh, Kate Beckett... his girlfriend, trepidation on the matter. "But if you don't want me to tell her just yet..."

"No." She says with a smile. "tell her. And if want me to talk to her, then I'd be more than happy to. I want to be a part of your life, Castle. And that means being a part of hers to."

He smiles, his hands roaming her back and thinks he's never seen a smile on her face that feels this warm and so natural at the same time. Or at least not one that's because of him. "And you continue to amaze me."

He leans down and kisses her, her hand weaving into his hair as he gently urges her against him with his hands on her back.

But with the thought that he's telling his daughter about them, she should tell her father about them too.

* * *

 **A/N: I always thought that Beckett walking into Castle room looking like she just stepped off the steps of Mt. Olympus was a little unrealistic. Yes, she looked like one of the most gorgeous woman on the planet like she is, but still... come on. And I always felt a little robbed that they didn't wake up _together_. I hope you liked my take on it. **


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Probably updated the last chapter too fast. Didn't get too many reviews. If you didn't see it, I posted chapter three yesterday. Hope you liked it.**

* * *

Castle dodges pedestrians as he walks down the street, toward the small cafe uptown.

Everything in his life seems to be falling directly into place. His daughter just graduated from high school as valedictorian, his mother is up in the Hampton's until tomorrow, and best of all, the woman he loves finally wants to be together. It feels like he's seeing a whole new side of her, or at least... it should. He's seen this side of her before and always knew that it was there. The happy, lighter side. No burdens, nothing to weight her down. And he always knew that there'd be no stopping his completely falling for here to the point of no return if it were to surface full force, which he can see it has.

He never realized that she'd be this affectionate. He always thought that it would be up to him. But she never wasted any time burrowing herself into his side whenever she could, or smiling at him, their kisses lingering, everything they do lingering. They ate, talking about seemingly nothing, teasing each other and complimenting each other on the night before. He really had no idea. She was incredible. But she had nothing but good things to say about their time together. After all, three time. He feels himself smirk when he thinks that.

He looks up and sees his daughter coming toward him from down the street, a bright smile on her face. "There she is." He says and opens his arms. She wraps her arms around him and hugs up, making him smile. "My valedictorian." He says, beaming with pride.

She squeezes him just before she leans back. "Is everything okay, Dad?" She asks with a straight brow.

"What are you talking about? I'm great." He tells her with a shrug.

"Well... no offense," She prefaces with a lift of her brow, "but I just graduated high school. I thought you'd be more... broken up about it."

"What, like a mid life crisis?" She shrugs her shoulders and nods off. "Honey, I went through that a long time ago, when you got your first period. Where do you think the Ferrari came from?"

"Well, I don't know, it's... something's different. Last time I saw you, you were a little depressed, and now you're smiling like you just won the lottery or something."

He sighs lightly and looks down, rubbing his daughters arms, because well, in a way he did. "Come on, there's something I want to tell you." He walks them inside and they get seated in a booth near the back. "So, how was the party? You do anything I wouldn't do?" He asks her, feigned seriousness in his tone.

"I don't know, that's kind of a short list." She fires back.

He leans back, his mouth a gap. "Ouch." She giggles and her face lights up. Things come down and he feels the need to explain. "So..." He starts, "something happened last night."

Alexis pauses and gives him a curious brow. "What is it?"

He sighs and leans forward. "Well, you know that I've had feelings for a... certain person, for quite a while now."

"Beckett." She says for him.

"Yeah." He says after a small sigh. "Well, last night, she... came by. And sparing you from the details, she wants to move forward. She wants to be together and... and so do I." Alexis is looking down at the table, not giving him an answer. "Alexis?"

"And you're sure?" She asks him, still not looking up.

"What do you mean?"

"You're sure." She says, looking up. He doesn't see anger in her eyes, he sees worry. "Dad, I know how you feel about her. And I'm just worried that she doesn't feel the same. I'm worried that this is just some kind of... fling for her. And I know you, Dad. You give all of yourself to the people you love. You don't hold back. And to someone like Beckett... I'm just worried what will happen if she gets scared away."

"Alexis, Beckett wants to be happy. She wants to move forward and I want to do it with her." Alexis eyes him with a straight brow. "Poor choice of words." Alexis nods and he continues. "What I'm saying is that I've waited for this opportunity for far too long not to take it. And you're right, she might get scared and run off. But I'm not going to let that stop me. I don't want to let the chance of her breaking my heart take away the chance of her being the love of my life. And I think that she deserves that chance."

"Dad... it's not always about what you deserve. It's about what you earn." He's taken aback by his daughter, being wise way beyond her years. "You think she's _earned_ that chance?"

"I think she's earned several."

* * *

Beckett steps into the diner, seeing him in a booth next to the window. They find each other with ease, and he stands up with a smile. "Hi Katie." He says with warmth and gently wraps his arms around her, flooding her with warmth that she can only get from her father's embrace. She lets the weight looming on her back from telling him everything evaporate momentarily as she hugs him.

"Hi Dad." She says, pulling down and feeling him kiss her on the cheek. As he does, the guilt, the selfishness of her actions, of giving it all up shoots through her and before she can fight them, she has tears in her eyes. She doesn't look at him and instead, sits down across from him, looking down at the table. She wishes he was here.

"What is it, sweetheart?" He asks her.

"Dad, I..." She pauses, at a loss for words as she reaches up and swipes away the tears blurring her vision.

"Is this about your mother's case?" He asks. He feels a clench in his gut when he asks. He hates talking about her mother's case. None of it will bring her back.

She sniffles and slowly nods her head. "Yeah... yeah, it is." She says, still not meeting his eyes. She can't, the shame of it all, giving it all up when she promised him that she'd catch who ever killed her mother. "Something happened." She starts with a shaky voice. "And I-I can't... I can't keep doing this." She still can't look him in the eye. She isn't prepared at all for the look of utter disappointment he's sure to be looking at her with. "I know I promised you that I'd catch her killer, but..."

"Katie, what is this really about?" He asks, his tone that of a father knowing his daughter is skirting the issue. She can't answer him. She can't even look at him. "Is this about your partner?"

She lifts her head, first looking out the window before a smile forces its way onto her face, the image of his smile from this morning flashing in her mind. "Yes." Even past her tears, she can see nothing but him wanting to know what really happened. No shame, no anger, just a raised brow. "I'm sorry, Dad. I'm so sorry." She quietly sobs.

"Hey." He says, just before she feels him put a hand on her forearm. She looks back up to him and sees him smiling. "You have _nothing_ to feel sorry about, Katie." She feels her tears stop and her brow scrunch together. "Honey, being a cop, you chasing after whoever killed your mother... it's never a life I wanted for you."

"But Dad-"

He lifts his hand off the table, motioning for her to let him finish. "Katie..." Jim sighs and looks back to her, waiting for her to finish swiping away her tears with the napkin she took from the dispenser on the table. "When that man killed your mother, whoever he is, he didn't just take my wife. He took my daughter too. And I don't have to tell you that her death changed you. You know that better than anybody. And I didn't see my little girl again until he came along."

She feels a sad smile sneak onto her face.

"And Rick's a father too, so he'll tell you. No father wants anything to stand in the way of their daughters happiness. Now I didn't press the issue because you have more of your mother in you than you know, and it wouldn't have done either of you any good. But he loves you, Katie, and he makes you happy. Doesn't he?"

She nods sadly, her smile growing brighter. "Yeah, he does."

Her dad smiles softly while he returns her slow nod. He never said anything. The whole time she was staying in his cabin that humid summer after she got shot, he never said a thing. Never mentioned Castle, even when she asked him to pick up a copy of his book for her. "Your mother deserves justice, Katie. But you deserve to have a life filled with the love she had for you."

She sniffles and nods. She knows he's right. But telling him she's giving up the fight still hurts. Feels like a betrayal, a let down. "Dad, I don't know who I am with out Mom's case." She says, the thought coming out the same time it occurred to her. "I'm finally at a place where I feel I can stop, where... where I can move forward, and be with someone who cares about me and who loves me, and where I don't feel a responsibility to find her killer, but... now that I quit the force and I left it all behind... I can't remember who I am."

"You resigned from the NYPD?" He asks, the subject just now coming up.

All she can do is nod and look back down to the table. "The only reason I became a cop was to catch her killer. But I couldn't let the job take anything else from me. I almost lost Castle because of it. Dad, I'm tired of being... Detective Beckett. I want to go back to being just... Kate."

Jim smiles softly for a second before nodding. "I hope this isn't just a segue from one dangerous job to another."

Kate laughs lightly and shakes her head. "No, Dad, it isn't. I might um... take some time off. Go on vacation. Do a little soul searching. I can't remember the last time I took time off that didn't involve me recuperating from a gunshot." She says, standing up with her dad.

"You've earned it, sweetie." He says, hugging her lightly again. She returns his hug and takes a deep breath.

She's earned some time off.

* * *

Beckett returns to her apartment in a much better place. Castle's on his way over and she has every intention of continuing their time just lying in bed in each others arms. It ended too soon.

She has her shoes off and is padding around her apartment, straightening up. She picks up a few pieces of laundry and is taking them back to her bedroom when she sees the shutters in the other room. They're still open and everything is just... staring her in the face. She lets out a heavy sigh and goes into her bedroom, bringing the small trash can with her on her way back.

She makes her way over to the window, the make shift murder board she's spent so much time on. So much time. So much time chasing something when he was just waiting. Waiting for her. He was right there, the whole time waiting for her. And she did this. This was her excuse. She used this, saying that she needed time, that she can only be with him if she closed this case.

She can feel her blood boil at the realization that she wasted so much time on _this_ when she could have been with him.

She reaches up and tears at the note cards angrily, hot tears falling down her cheeks. She throws the crumpled note cards on the floor, feeling her breath seethe inside her. Once she see's it's all clear, she stops and closes her eyes, focusing on relaxing herself. After a few deep breaths, she looks down and starts picking up the strands of taped together note cards and puts them in the trashcan she brought out of her bedroom.

She stands up and replaces a few strands of hair that had fallen out of her pony tail and takes one more deep breath, just in time to hear a knock on her door.

Feeling her chest warm and a smile finally appear on her face, she goes over and answers the door, seeing him dressed in the same dark blue dress shirt she last saw him in. She loves what that shirt does to his eyes. "Hey."

He smiles, taking a slow step toward her. "You okay?" He asks her, a concerned brow lifting as he slowly reaches for her.

She nods and steps into him. "Yeah, I'm fine." He engulfs her in his strong arms and she puts her head down onto his chest, closing her eyes and folding her arms in between them. "It's just been an emotional day, that's all."

"You talked to your dad?" His voice feels so good inside his chest, against her ear.

"Yeah." She says, feeling him sensually start rubbing her upper back. Why did she fight this for so long? Because she thought she wasn't ready? He sighs, blowing a rush of cold air down her back. She moans and burrows herself deeper into his chest. She lifts her arms and wraps them around his neck, pulling back to look at him.

She expected to see a look of deep concern, of worry, a look that says he's about to ask her what's really going on with her. But all she sees is his warm smile. She pushes up and softly presses her lips to his, feeling him pull her up into him with the hands still on her back. She moans as he sets her back down. "You taste like french fries." She tells him.

"Sorry, lunch with Alexis. I've got, uh..." He starts pulling back and reaching into his back pocket.

But she stops him. "No, don't..." She says softly, pulling at the back of his arm and putting it back around her. "I like french fries."

He smirks as she bites her lower lip, then starts towards her bedroom, leading him by both hands, walking backward because she doesn't want to let him out of her sight. They get to hall way leading to her bedroom when a knock at the door stops them. She feels the tingling in her center come to a dead stop and annoyance flood her. She groans and lets her head fall against his chest, still holding his hands in her limp arms. "It's always something, I swear." He says.

"I'll get rid of them. Don't start without me." She says, turning around and quickly making her way to her door. She pulls it open, anxiously wanting to get back to her boyfriend, until she sees whose at the door. Why can't it just stop. "Ryan?"

"Hey Beckett. I have to show you something." He says quickly and edges past her.

"Ryan-" She tries, but he's already in the door.

"We managed to find a copy of the picture Maddox took from the wedding album." He starts, but she tunes him out. Slowly pacing her way past him, running her hand slowly over her hair. "We're running it through facial rec now, but I was hoping you'd recognize him."

"Kevin, what are you doing?" She asks in a desperate voice, her back still turned to him.

"What do you mean?" He asks her, as if he has no idea what he's doing to her right now.

"What the _hell_ are you doing?!" She scorns in a slow, desperate voice, turning around to face him.

"Beckett, I understand what-"

"No, you don't! Kevin, this case almost cost me my life. It almost cost me the man I love!" Castle feels his breath catch from the hallway. "I walked away for a reason. I want it to just _stop,_ okay? I want it to end! I want to move on!"

Ryan nods, looking down at the floor. "I'm sorry." He says quickly but honestly. "I guess I shouldn't have come by, but with you _and_ Javi gone, I..." He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "Well, listen Beckett, if you ever need anything, no matter what it is, you know how to get a hold of me. It's the least I could do for ratting you out to Gates."

"No, Ryan..." She says, taking a step toward him. "I know you did it to protect me, and I appreciate it. If I was in your position, I would have done the same thing. But please... I just walked away from that case and I-I... I can't go back."

Kevin nods again, "Don't worry about it, I get it. Keep in touch, boss." He says with what she can tell is a feigned smile and heads out the door.

She forces all the air out of her lungs as she goes to the door and clicks the lock shut. Running a hand through over her hair and replacing a few strands from her pony tail, she turns and heads back for her bedroom and to the man she just wants to get lost in, but when she turns down the hall, she sees him standing just a few feet away with a soft smirk. "Ryan's gone, I... I got rid of him." She says, pointing behind her.

He sighs and takes a step forward. "Beckett, this doesn't have to be a black and white issue." He says softly, reaching up and gently caressing her arms.

"What do you mean?"

"You know that I would never force you to choose between me and getting justice for your mother. You mean too much to me for me to say my way or the high way, Beckett."

"Castle, we've been through this." She tells him, putting her hands on his stomach. "The truth is I've been chasing after her killer for so long that I don't know who I am without it. I've been Detective Beckett for so long that I forgot what it feels like to just be Kate." She says, repeating the words she told her dad. "And I know that you'd never force me to choose, but this is me choosing. And I'm choosing you."

"But Kate, this case... your job, it's the most important thing in your life."

"No!" She says as soon as she realizes what he's saying and reaches up to his jaw. "It's not. I thought it was, I convinced myself that it was, but the truth is Rick, it's not. Now please, I feel like I've been crying all day. All I want to do is to get in bed with you."

He smiles and pulls her into him. "I think I have a better idea."

"Oh?"

"Well, Mother is driving home from the Hampton's as we speak, so the house is going to be empty. We could drive up there and make it just in time for the sunset." She feels her heart warm and excitement start to tingle inside her. "There's a fully stocked kitchen," He starts slowly, drifting her off from side to side, "a sauna, home theater, the pool."

She bites her tongue and tries desperately to fight back the face splitting smile. "Are you trying to seduce me with an impromptu trip to your beach house in the Hampton's?

"Is it working?"

She looks down to his chest and puts a finger on one of his buttons. "It might be. You know I still have that one piece that I wore in LA." She says and looks up to him through her lashes.

"But I'm trying to get you naked." He answers matter-of-factly. She giggles and starts playing with the button her finger is on. "Come on, you said this morning that you needed a vacation."

Her eyes shoot up to his, her smile giving him her answer.

"Go pack a bag." She quickly pushes up and kisses him, chastely for the first time and quickly pads her way into her bedroom.

He wanted to stop her and ask. She did say it after all, but it was probably just the emotion. She's had an emotional day, after all. Maybe he'll get it out of her when they get up to the Hampton's. But that's not what this is going to be about. She wants to find out who she is with out the case, and he wants to help her discover just how amazing she is.

After all, maybe he really is the man she loves.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: An anon posted something on the second chapter review I feel the need to address.**

 **At heart, I'm a musician. And we notoriously have bad spelling. So when I read a sentence, I tend to read it as a whole sentence, a word as a whole word instead of each individual letter. So I may not catch all the typos, and you'll have some typing as fast as I do. All I can ask for is forgiveness on this, and for you to bare with me. Thank you to Firefox's spell check though, and of course to all of you who share your thoughts with me on this and my story.**

* * *

"Jealous?!"

"Castle, you practically had froth coming out of your mouth when I mentioned my physical therapist."

He forgot how this topic came up. They started teasing each other about their past together and she got around to calling him out on his jealousy. She has her hair down now, falling down her shoulders in the usual graceful curls, one of her legs is curls up to her chest as she sits in the passenger seat of his car, and they're driving down the straight shot high way toward the Hampton's.

"Beckett, I am a gentleman. And gentleman..." He says with a smirk and looks over to her, "do not get jealous."

"Okay, well..." She starts, looking out the windshield. "First there was Sorenson."

"You mean the ego with legs?"

"Then there was Demming."

" _That_ pompous know-it-all?"

"And I don't think I should mention Josh or you might run us off the road." She finishes, waving her hand out in front of her before bring it back to wrap around her leg. She's looking at him, an agape smile lighting up her face.

"Well, Mister Perfect can-" He cuts himself off, feeling his voice raising itself and his anger, which is well past pointless, starting to boil inside of him.

He knew she was right whenever the accusation was made. His own prideful ego unwilling to let him just admit that he was jealous. He lets out a breath through his nose and concedes.

"Alright... fine." He starts, "I admit it. I was jealous. But being jealous is ingrained in us, it's part of our brain chemistry." He defends with a rapid tapping against his temple. "I mean, it was... it was so easy for them." He says, trying to be neutral, with a calm voice. He looks over to her and sees her looking at him expectantly. "It took me four years to finally get you, but for them..." He sighs and turns back to the road. "So yes, I know that it's pointless for me to be jealous now. But then... whenever they were around I felt like an annoyance. Like I was just the writer that hung around because he had nothing better to do. But when they left, I was your partner." He tells her, looking back over to her, seeing her expression has softened. "So call me selfish, but maybe I liked it better when I had you all to myself, because then maybe I could at least... pretend that..." He shakes his head, knowing what he was going to say, but deciding not to say it because it sounds pathetic in his head.

"That it was you?" She finishes for him. His mouth doesn't want to open, he doesn't want to speak. If he starts, he might say something even stupider than that. Sure, it's a pretty high bar he set for himself, but he doesn't want to take the chance. He doesn't answer her directly, but for her, his silence is answer enough. And she understands.

She's been there. Imagining all the missed opportunities she let pass by unnoticed actually happened. Or even using someone else as a... cheap substitute for the real thing.

An awkward silence envelopes them and she turns back out the window. The city faded behind them so quickly. She hasn't been out this far since she went up to her dad's cabin. She really didn't intend to, especially when things have been going so well for them on the first day of the start of their relationship. But drudging up their past, all it did was bring up how much they've hurt each other. But she doesn't want that to matter anymore. They're together now, it shouldn't.

"So," She says, a sudden thought coming to her as a means to change the subject. "How much did the father cry at his little girl's graduation?" She asks, half teasing and half honestly asking him about Alexis's graduation.

He chuckles softly, "I did not cry." He defends himself childishly. "But I've never been so proud of her." He says with a brightening smile. "Her speech was so well written, unique, beautiful, it was so outside of the whole... cookie cutter graduation speech."

"Hmm... wonder where she got it from." She teases, looking at him from the side.

"Sure as hell didn't get it from her mother." He mutters under his breath.

"Was she there?" She asks, honestly wondering. He never talks about Meredith, to the point that sometimes she forgets about Alexis even having a mother.

"I think she would have to remember she has a daughter before she remembered her high school graduation." He answers, a fog clouding his eyes and a frustration and disappointment taking the tinder out of his voice.

He never talks about her. She should be a big part of his history. But for being the mother of the light of his life, she's almost non existent. The glazed look and walled off expression is still staring out the windshield as he drives. "What... really happened with her, anyway?" She asks, breaking past every part of her screaming at her that it's not her place to ask, and that it will only cause problems. He's always worn his heart out on his sleeve with her, and she feels she just wrapped her nails around it and dug in. "I know it's not my place to ask or anything, it's just... you never talk about her."

He takes in a deep breath and lets it out in a long sigh. He never talks about her because he always felt that there's nothing to say. But now...

"When we first started dating, I made making her happy my top priority." He starts, looking over to her with a small smile before he looks back to the road. "Then when we got married, I made our marriage my top priority. Then when she got pregnant, I made taking care of her my top priority. But when Alexis was born, I made _Alexis_ my top priority, with the understanding that Meredith would do the same. Suffice to say... she didn't."

His eyes look as if they're not looking anywhere, glossed over and haunted. "What do you mean?" She asks in a small voice.

"When Alexis was born, I took some time off writing. And Meredith and I had a... silent understanding that she would take some time away from the studio. And for a while, everything was normal. We stayed home for a while and raised Alexis together. Everything seemed fine until Alexis turned a year old, when Meredith said that she was offered a role she couldn't afford to pass up. So she went back to acting, and I stayed with Alexis. And it went on for a few more years until I noticed Meredith was being distant. Staying out later, not returning my calls, sometimes she didn't come home for a few days."

His eyes are so far away. His voice is soft and steady. It's as if he's telling the memories as he's reliving them. And if it wasn't for him driving, she'd would have reached out and offered him a gesture of comfort by now.

"One day when Alexis was three and a half, I had to go to a meeting uptown, Alexis was in bed with a fever and mother was out of town, so I told Meredith that she had to take care of Alexis while I was gone. The meeting ended early and I came home with some things to help get Alexis's fever down, and when I walked in... there they were. Lipstick smeared, shirt half open and skirt around her waist."

She feels his words stab her in the chest, her heart breaking for him.

"I wasn't even surprised. I was almost expecting it. They scrambled off each other and she tried to act like it was a one time thing and I was about to throw them both out. But then I heard Alexis call me from the top of the stairs in a scratchy voice and her little pink frilly pajamas, still rubbing her eyes. Without a word, I went upstairs, picked up my daughter in my arms, took her back to bed and shut the door behind me. When I went back downstairs five hours later, she was gone and I served her the papers the next day, siting gross child negligence and infidelity."

Saying she's so sorry just seems like an insult. He's always been so care free, light hearted, she never would have guess him going through something like this. She feels her heart being squeezed, imagining her partner in his early twenties, coming home to discover his wife on the couch with someone else while his three year old daughter is upstairs with a fever. Someone as loving as him should never have to go through something that heart wrenching.

"She comes by every few years or so when she needs a boost to her ego. She takes Alexis out shopping, or out to a fancy restaurant, comes by when she wants to be in the spotlight again. But motherhood was always more about the title than it was about the responsibility for her. Just a means to make herself feel wanted and important to someone. I'm just lucky that Alexis was too young for it to affect her. I never had to have the 'where's Mommy' conversation with her."

"You're a great father, Castle." She says, the words forming from the thought as she had it.

His eyes lift out of the dense fog in a flash and a warm smile returns to his handsome face. The way he should always be.

"What about Gina?" She stops the question after she asks him. She starts shaking her head until she sees him shrug.

"I don't know, really. Alexis was nine and I was starting to tour with Derrick Storm. Mother was being... well, Mother and Gina offered to watch Alexis while I was out of town. And after a while, I felt that Alexis needed a positive, constant female presence in her life, and felt that Alexis deserved to be raised in a normal family. So Gina and I sort of... hit it off, I guess. She was around when I had to be out of town, but wanted to be with my daughter, and she started fighting the publishers for getting me tour dates closer to home. It was... convenience I guess."

She doesn't know Gina that well. It leaves a bad taste in the back of her throat, thinking about watching him walk out of the precinct on her arm when she was just seconds away from accepting his offer to come up here with him.

"Looking back, the best way I can describe it is a... friends with benefits who decided to give marriage a shot. We never really connected or anything, so when we started fighting and it started to fall apart, I didn't feel any need to try and mend it."

A few years ago, hell, probably even a few months ago, she would have pegged it as being his fault that his past two marriages ended in divorce. It's always been something she either overlooked and ignored because she was focused on the best of him, or something that was a constant reminder of who she thought he really was at times, when they were fighting, a reason to stay mad at him.

But now that she knows what really happened, she feels she could never hold it against him again. She knows they will fight and argue, and she knows that she will bring it up as ammo to fire back with, but she can't make the excuse that she didn't really know. But now that she does, she feels a pull to tell him something about her. She's silent for a minute before she comes up with something that she feels might come up anyway. "Whenever I started dating Josh, I wanted it to be you." She says honestly, giving voice to the tiny one in the back of her mind that she never gave a chance to give its case. "I told myself that he was everything a girl could want, but... he was never really what I wanted at all. I mean, he was always gone, and when he was here, he was so tired that we never had a chance to connect. But what I hated myself for is that's the reason I started dating him in the first place."

"Why'd you break up?" He asks as if it's a normal question, but he already knows. He knew that she was always unhappy with Josh, and having your partner tell you that he loves you when there's a bullet sitting in your chest is hardly something a feeble relationship like that can handle.

"I have to tell you?" She answers with a question that she doesn't want answered. "I mean, there were a lot of reasons. I wanted something more and he couldn't give it to me. But I think what did it is when Lanie told me what he said to you." She says, bringing back to him how the guilt almost stopped him from fighting back.

"You talked to Lanie about it?" He's surprised at that. She didn't talk to him at all before she walked away to recover in private.

"Lanie talked to me about it when she came by to see me after I woke up. I broke up with him just before I left."

His mind has been playing it all back for the last couple of moments. The guilt, the thought that it might as well have been him who pulled the trigger. "He wasn't wrong."

"Yes, he was, Castle. You're my partner and he couldn't accept that that wasn't his place in my life. It was yours." She sighs, feeling she'd gotten what she wanted most off her chest. Josh was never her partner, it was always him. "Besides," she starts, wanting to get the tone back they had a few minutes ago when they were teasing each other, "he kept calling me 'Katie.'"

"What's wrong with that?" He asks, looking over to her, seeing she's looking out her window.

"My dad calls me 'Katie.'"

He pauses, thinking of how that would feel. Creepy. "Oh." He says with a lift.

"Yeah." She murmurs.

"Okay, so... don't call you Katie." He says and looks over to her again.

She meets his eyes, half lidded and smirking. "Don't call me Katie."


	6. Chapter 6

She was never impressed by his money. It was always just part of who he was. He never flaunted it, never waved it in her's or anyone elses face. Or maybe it's just her, growing up in a well off family. She wasn't rich, just well off, so maybe she just got used to it all, and maybe that's why she feels so at home at the loft.

But now, she's impressed. The house is huge. As the car slows to a stop in the large parking circle, she feels her stomach flutter with excited nerves. She has almost a sense of childlike wonderment looking over the gorgeous beach house. Next thing she's aware of, she sees Castle walk in front of the window she's staring out of and open the door for her. She looks up to him, seeing his brow is cocked up on one side and has a crocked smirk on his face. "Wow." She manages, giving him her hand and stepping out.

"Yeah, I like it." He says, looking up to the house. This has always been a place of retreat. A place to spend some quiet time with his family. In a past life, a means to impress. Not in this one. He didn't bring her up here to impress her. He brought her here to help her relax, to help her get away from everything he knew she was feeling closing in on her. "If you will follow me, we can begin the tour."

She smiles and follows him to the door, her bag sitting in the back seat forgotten.

He puts the key on the lock, but turns to look at her before he opens, "And please, no flash photography." He flashes a smile and she laughs a light giggle, but she feels it fill her chest.

He opens the door and saunters into the foyer, spinning his keys around his middle finger. She's slow to follow him, looking over the house in wonder. "This is beautiful." She says slowly, her eyes drifting across the decor. She pauses at the picture on the wall, a copy of a picture he has at the loft, him giving a beaming teenage Alexis a piggyback ride. She smiles and takes a few more steps until her eyes fall open a set of french doors leading out to the back.

Castle stops and watches her. She's tracing her eyes over everything, her smile seeming to widen at everything new she finds. And that's why he brought them here. It may have been on a whim, but he knew that it would have been difficult for him, if not impossible to bring a smile so natural and so vibrant to her beautiful face if they had stayed in the city.

"Why don't I check on a few things and then we can get started." He says and goes to the kitchen with the hope that his mother left at least one bottle in the collection.

Kate's eyes get fixed onto the set of french doors, she can see the grass, the ocean, the pinkish orange clouds teasing the horizon. She smiles at him briefly as he goes off down the hall. Her eyes turn back to the doors and she's quick to make her way over to them and open them. The wind catches her and blows across her face.

But what stops her is the silence. It's so quiet out here. She was born and raised in New York, so the ambient background noise of the city is something she's used to, able to block out with ease. But when it's quiet like this, it's so all consuming. She takes a few more steps out onto the stone patio and closes her eyes, breathing in deep the cool wind blowing through her hair and across her face.

She uprooted her life for the second major time in her life, quitting her job and jumping head first into the one relationship she's ever felt right in. Everything she's felt pushing her in all directions she feels fall away. She leans her head back, drawing in a deep breath in through her nose, inhaling the cool scent of the ocean. She can't remember a time she's felt this... at peace.

Castle comes back to where he left her, two goblets of wine in hand. "Beckett?" He softly calls, wondering if she's just around some near by corner. But when he hears the leafs rustling on the trees outside, he takes a few steps forward and sees her and feels his heart rise in his chest.

This would be the part where he would sneak up behind her, softly press his palms to her sides, slide them over her stomach, pull her into him, search for her ear hidden behind the curtain of her sweet smelling hair and start teasing the skin behind it with his lips. But leaning against the door jam, drinking her in is more than enough. She has her head tilted back, her hair blowing gracefully with the soft breeze cutting the air. "It's so quiet here." She says softly, sensing him behind her.

"That's what I love most about it." He says, deciding not to shove off the door jam and stand next to her and let her invite him over to her.

He sees her take a few more long, deep breaths before her head leans forward again and turns slightly to give him a side look. He sees her reach out her hand behind her, beckoning him to come and hold it for her. He shoves off his place and makes his way over to her, coming to stand much closer to her than he would have yesterday and lifts one of the glasses to her. She smiles and takes it from him. "Thanks."

He smiles in welcome and turns to look out to the sky, taking a small sip from his own glass.

It isn't until he sees her grasp her upper arm holding her other close to her chest as she takes a small sip that he starts to worry. "Everything okay?" He asks gently.

She looks up to him with a sad smile and nods. "Yeah, it's..." She looks behind her, looking at the house again, "amazing, Castle. It's beautiful."

"So what's wrong?" He can see it in her eyes. He's been staring into that same troubled look for four years too long not to recognize when something's troubling her.

"I just..." She starts, looking down at the small space between them and turns to face him, still not meeting his eyes. He wants to reach out to her, but wants to let her come to him. After a long moment, waiting her out, she looks up, "I'm trying to think of what I did to deserve all this... you."

He smiles softly, his daughters words from this early afternoon coming to mind. "You know, someone very close to me once said that's it's not about what you deserve, it's about what you earn. And you Kate Beckett," he sets his glass on the table behind him then does the same with hers before he snakes his arms around her back, softly tugging her into him, he couldn't stand not feeling the warmth of her under his touch anymore, "have earned more than I could ever hope to give you, but I am looking forward to giving it my best shot."

She smiles sadly, feeling herself fight back tears. She knows they're tears of joy, maybe, but still, looking back on the events of the long day, waking up with him this morning, telling her dad she quit the force and gave up on her mother's case, realizing how much of her life she wasted on it when she tore down her murder board. She wants the tears to stop. Her crying makes her feel as if she's not okay with being him, and she is. It's only been one day of crossing over that barrier with him, and she's already never been this happy. She just wants to stop crying.

But he'll have to stop amazing her with the depths of his heart, which she doesn't think he will ever stop doing.

She lays one arm on his, hand resting on his shoulder as her other reaches up and gently cups his jaw, her thumb caressing his cheek. She's telling herself not to question what she did to earn him, like he said. A part of her hates herself right now for fighting this, fighting him, fighting them for so long. But the rest of her loves this and wouldn't want it to be any different than it is right now.

His warm gaze is locked with hers, and he knows. This is when he can see all of who she is, who she really is, just in those deep, hazel emerald eyes staring back at him. He feels his heart beating just a little harder and feels it get just a bit harder to breathe. "So, um..." He starts in a weak voice and swallows past the lump in his throat, "this is usually the part where your phone rings or... or Ryan or Esposito come in and ask us what we were doing and we both shake our heads, trying to pretend that we weren't just thinking what we're both thinking right now."

Her breath tickles inside her lungs as her eyes lock onto his, her thumb still gently running itself back and forth across his cheek. "Well, I left my phone in the car... and Ryan and Espo are a hundred miles away back in the city, so..."

"Well, in that case..." He softly clears his throat, still unable to break to tight lock her eyes have on his, "I've always wanted to see what happens at the end of one of these moments."

"Yeah..." She says, feeling her feet start to press up on her tiptoes and his hands start pressing her into him. "Me too."

* * *

They slam against the wall, frenzied lips trying and failing to get enough of each other.

Kate's breathing is letting a deep moan escape with every heave he's letting her take, and Castle isn't much better, groaning with every frantic pull and tug her arms and legs make over his body. Her leg wraps around his hip and he reacts by gripping it and shoving her up the wall they ended up on, making her groan loudly as his lips almost immediately finds her wind pipe.

She moves against him with as little freedom as he's letting her have, the pressure of his hips the only thing keeping her up right, which is more than enough. After he softly digs his teeth into her, making her center crawl with excitement, she fists his hair and pulls him off her so she can throw her lips down onto his again. As their lips start fighting yet another war, fighting for a rhythm and as much pleasure as they can get from each other, his strong hands slide her shirt up her body.

When he can't slide it up anymore, she takes her fingers out of his soft hair and whips it off for him. He kisses her hard once she does, missing the contact even for that split second. She wants to feel his skin against hers, her body won't let her go without it anymore. Her fingers start fumbling with the buttons on his dark blue dress shirt, feeling his hands cup her through her bra. Why do all of his shirts have so many damn buttons? Half way down, "Do you care about this shirt?"

He kisses her again, "Not even remotely."

Grasping the sides, she rips it open, but feels the shirt hold. Castle's torso starts jumping in laughter as he keeps kissing her over his smile. With another forceful tug, all that happens is the shirt fabric snapping taut. Castle's laughter is audible now and she stops kissing him and leans back. "Damn it." She groans.

"Need some help?"

"Shut up."

With a deep breath, she puts all of her strength into ripping his shirt open. With one strong moment, she tears his shirt open finally hearing the buttons scatter onto the floor. "Was it worth it?"

Finally giving herself a moment to stop and take him all in, not stuck in a darkened bedroom, she runs her hands over his chest. His muscles are softly defined, not sticking out from hours and hours spent in the gym, just soft curves under warm skin. Feeling her heart in her throat, her rebellious hands still roving his chest, "Yes."

He chuckles and slowly leans into kiss her. When their lips finally connect again, her hands find his hair and her breathing quickly turns into moaning. "Which way is the bedroom?" She asks him.

"Just down the hall." He practically growls into her mouth. "Do you care if we make it there?"

"Not even remotely." She moans, feeling a wave of arousal shoot down to her core. She pushes herself off the wall, stepping down onto very shaky legs and shoves him against the opposite wall. Her hands on his stomach, his warm, soft lips still moving against hers with very little effort, she starts working on his belt, then his pants. Once she pushes them off of him, and he grazes her stomach, she feels herself being turned and pushed against the wall she pushed them up against.

Her hands up against the wall in surrender, she feels him quickly working at the button of her jeans and shove them down her legs, kneeling down to get them all the way off. Her body still crawling with excitement, she's caught off guard by him making the one swift action it takes for her leg to be over his shoulder and his mouth to be on her. Her eyes widen and she gasps loudly, her hand pressing against his head. "God, Castle." She argues, but it only takes a second for him to be over taking her with his mouth.

His mouth sucks at her in just the right place, his tongue finding just the right place to run over with so little effort, she would have thought he'd done this to her before. She feels her chest heave, one of his hands pressing flatly just below her naval, and the other inches upward on the inside of her thigh.

He chuckles lightly against her before he continues torturing her. Fisting his hair, her breath still fighting to fill her lungs enough, she feels her core tighten and coil quicker and quicker with each motion his mouth makes against her. Her breath goes erratic, her body wracking with the impending domination of her senses. But when she feels her center coil tighter than she thought possible, his mouth leaves her and she's left teetering. But only for that second as he quickly stands back up and swiftly pushes into her... and she's gone.

Her walls are already clenching and fluttering around him. Her eyes rolling back into her head as her body twinges, her arms wrapped around his torso and her hands planted on his back, riding out her orgasm with him sitting inside her. He eases out but her nails move up and dig into his shoulders. " _No!_ Don't move." She scorns with a sated smile. "Not yet."

He leans forward, kissing her warm cheek lightly, feathering kisses across her skin. He slowly pushes back into her, sending another forceful aftershock through her. He knows that if she keeps fluttering around him, being this hot and this wet, this will not last long. "Kate, this isn't going to last long." He groans against her neck.

"I know." She says, kissing him slowly on the shoulder and he pulls back and raises a brow, questioning her. "I had my turn, now it's yours." Her eyes skirt downward and his head shakes.

"The floor?"

"It's either that or walk all the way down the hall and climb in bed, which will take too long for either one of us."

"I really had no idea, did I?"

Her lip curls in between her teeth as she smiles.

He smiles and slowly eases himself down to the cold hardwood floor, her body never leaving his from being plastered against him. His back against the wall, she hovers over him, slowly pressing herself down onto him and he feels his stomach tighten, even more so when she circles her hips against him. She repeats the motion, gaining speed with every pass as her lips finds his and her hands find his jaw. She kisses him passionately and his hands roam her back.

She continues to grind against him, still maintaining the same kiss, shifting her hips back and forth as fast as she can. She releases the kiss, breathing hard, her muscles on fire, but unwilling to let her stop. His breathing is just as heavy as hers as she continues to move against him, and it's a moment before she feels his lips press against her neck and her fingers weave into his hair again.

"Kate-" He rasps in a tight voice, and with one forceful shove, she jerks her hips forward and he releases into her. And as her movements come to a stop, her own body starts shuddering and reverberating with her own orgasm.

She's practically dead on top of him, and he's pretty much the same underneath her save for them both panting. He laughs lightly and smiles, reaching up his heavy arm and sliding it up her spine, feeling her skin adorning a thin layer of sweat. "Castle, that was amazing." She tells him with her head resting on his shoulder.

"So that's what happens at the end of those moments."

* * *

 **A/N: One thing that always bothered me is how people write Beckett ripping Castle's shirt open on the first try. He doesn't buy his clothes at wal-mart, they're designer. They're not going to rip on the first try. I know... I've tried.**

 **Also, Never liked stories that get an M rating for one scene, and this felt organic (I hope). Hope you liked it, and again, hope it wasn't too... yeah. Let me know what you think either way. Have a plot in mind, where I want to take it. This story won't be all fluff and sex scenes.**


	7. Chapter 7

Her breath stings, her chest already aching with dull pain fronted with sharp surges of stabs every time she takes a breath. "Just tell me whose behind this." She pleads. A last ditch effort to get answers.

"You're wasting your time, Detective. You have no idea what you're up against." He says, the same thing everyone's been telling her for years.

But as she gets to her feet, she can prove them wrong. Anger surging through every fiber and muscle of her, she feels herself boil. "Neither do you."

She launches herself forward, grabbing him around the waist. But he throws her off of him like she's nothing. She rolls hard across the ground of the roof feeling fear shoot through her as she feels the ground beneath her roll away and her hands clamor desperately for traction. " _Help!"_ She screams, for... anyone. "Help!" Her heart pounds inside her chest as she grabs the ledge, her legs frantically kicking underneath her, searching for a surface to save her.

His menacing frame casts a shadow over her, "Actually... we know exactly who were up against."

She was never going to end this, was she? It's been for nothing, all of it. She's going to die, they were always going to kill her and there isn't a damn thing she can do about it now. There never was, was there?

Maddox steps away and she's left kicking, her body still fighting for survival. Her fingers hurt, trying to hold onto the cold metal of the ledge. She's losing strength fast, fear crawling through her. "No..." It can't end like this... it just can't. "Come on, no." She says, her feet still searching desperately for traction. She tries one last time to pull herself up, but her strength fails her. "Not like this."

Not like this.

She looks down at the ground under her... no, it just can't end like this. Not while... "Castle..."

"Beckett?"

A wave of relief and hope shoots through her at the sound of his voice. "Castle!" She yells, her fingers aching.

"I'm not watching you do this, Kate..." His voice says.

"Castle!" She screams again.

"I'm done."

Her hand finally slips, her heart pounds erratically inside her chest as she feels herself start to fall. Her blood grows cold inside her veins, her breath stops, every synapse in her mind telling her to do anything to stop this. She died without him. Castle... save her.

 _"Castle!"_

* * *

" _Castle!"_

His broken immediately out of his sleep, hearing her blood curdling scream.

" _Castle!"_

She's screams again, sitting up straight, her face hidden behind a veil of hair. He sits up as fast as he can, one hand on her back, the other cupping her cheek and turning her to look at him. "Hey, hey hey hey." Hey soothes, pressing his thumb against her cheek, shaking her head a bit, stirring her awake. She's hyperventilating, her chest heaving and her eyes shooting from side to side. She starts shaking him off, her arms waving him off, but he keeps hold of her cheek, his other hand gently grasping her arm. "It's okay, Kate, it's okay."

Her eyes finally find his and she stills, her breath still heavy, her shoulders rising and falling with every one she fights for.

He closes his eyes, remembering back to a time when Alexis was little. "Who am I?" He asks her softly. She breathes out a long breath and shakes her head. "Who... am I?"

She closes her eyes, her curly hair covering part of her face. "Castle." She pants.

"Good." He says, pressing against her cheek to urge her to look back to him. "Do you know where you are?"

Her eyes shoot around the darkened bedroom, lit only by the fire in the fireplace. They squint, her face screwing together on confusion until she looks back to him, then it relaxes, her memories visibly coming back to her. "In the Hampton's... with you, we... we drove up yesterday afternoon."

She's starting to relax, her still panting starting to slow. "Good." He smiles softly, brushing her hair behind her ear with the hand not cradling her face. "Now, what happened?"

She lets out a shaky breath, her hands still shaking in her lap. "I was... I was on the roof with Maddox. We were fighting and he..." She stops and takes another deep breath, "he threw me off the roof and I was hanging there. You- you were... calling out to me, telling me that you weren't watching me do this, and that you were done. When I heard that, I fell." She lets out another breath and puts her hand over the one cradling her face, burrowing herself into it. "Castle, I could feel myself falling, I could... I could feel myself hit the ground."

He ignores the part about him, and asks the question he knows she needs to hear the answer to. "Is that what really happened?"

She shakes her head, leaning toward him a bit. "No. Ryan, he... he caught me right before I fell."

He nods, his thumb stroking her cheek. "Say it again."

She lets out a slow breath, her shoulders relaxing. "Ryan caught me before I fell." She says slowly. "Ryan caught me before I fell." She repeats for herself, letting the memory of what really happened play through her mind over and over again. Feeling his warm hand still cup her cheek, she nods her head deeper into his grasp, her hand still pressing against it and her lips finding his palm. The terror from her nightmare has faded, and she lets herself instead be consumed by his warmth.

"Can you still feel yourself falling?" He asks her, dropping his head to try and meet her eyes.

She looks up to him and shakes her head with an acute motion. "No."

"Come here." He pulls her toward him and she shows no hesitation in coiling her arms around his chest as tight as she can, hiding her face in the crock of his neck, focusing on the feeling of his hands rubbing her bare back.

He lays them back down on the bed, pulling the covers back over them as she balls herself into his side. He hears her take a long, slow breath and entwines her legs with his. He keeps his hand caressing her back in a long, soothing motion up and down the length of her spine, not letting himself fall back asleep till he's sure she has first.

After some time, he feels her breath slow and even fan across his chest, her tight grip on his side relax, and her weight unhinged, laying on top of him, and he closes his eyes.

* * *

The next time he feels his eyes open, the room is lighted with white sunlight.

He's still lying on his back with her on his side, feeling her finger trace patterns on his stomach. He lifts his head and looks down to her, seeing her resting her head down onto his chest, running her finger lightly over his stomach in a small figure eight. "Good morning."

She lifts her head off him for a second, turning to look up to him with a smile before setting it back down on his shoulder. "Morning."

"You sleep okay?" He asks, still looking down to her.

She smiles and turns her head back down, looking down at her finger still tracing his naval. "Yeah."

It's a moment before what happened last night with them come trickling in. He doesn't know for sure what she's feeling about what happened. But if he knows her well enough, she wants to pretend it never happened. He knows she hates him seeing her vulnerable. And he's never seen her that vulnerable before. But he can't do that. If he falls into the old pattern of letting her skirt the issues, afraid to push her to open up to him about things like this, what have they really accomplished besides sleeping with each other? "Beckett, about... last night."

He can feel her smile against him, "What? It was amazing, Castle. I even let you be on top most of the time."

"No, not..." He sighs, forcing himself to press on with what he means. "Not that."

She still has her head turned away from him as her tracing comes to a stop and lays her hand flat against his stomach. "Where'd you learn to do that?" She asks in a small voice. She pauses and turns her head back up to him, giving him a blank but soft expression. "It didn't seem like the first time you've had to do that."

He sighs and lays his head back down onto his pillow. "When Alexis was five and it was just me and her, I took her to the park one day. She was playing and saw someone walking their dog. She walked over to pet it and the dog started barking at her. It scared her to death, she started crying right then and there. I took her home and spoiled her to make her feel better, and I thought that that was the end of it. But that night I was up late writing and heard her screaming up in her room. I ran up and saw she was having a nightmare. She was dreaming that the dog attacked her. After a while, it became a recurring nightmare, so I let her sleep in my bed, and every time she'd wake up from that nightmare, I'd ask her where she was and what really happened that day. I thought the quicker I could get her back to reality and get her to think about what really happened the day the dog barked at her, the quicker the nightmares would stop, and after a while, they did."

Kate hums against him and nuzzles her head against him again. She smiles at the... at the love bursting through her at how caring he is and lets herself focus on the steady thump of his heart underneath her ear.

"Beckett." He says, his voice low and hesitant. She looks up to him and sees his brow furrowing slightly. "You said... that you could hear me call out to you. That I told you I couldn't watch you go through with it." He moves and sits up slightly, looking down to her. "Was that true?"

She sighs and moves up to join him. "Yes... and no." She starts, sitting next to him, her hands clasped together in her lap, the comforter pulled over her chest. He looks over to her, silently asking her to explain. "Castle, when I was hanging off that ledge, I thought about you. I didn't want to die when there was so much-" She cuts herself off, fear of jumping over a line by saying what she just said in her head.

"So much what?"

She sighs and looks down at her hands. "So much I hadn't done." She amends her words. "So much I hadn't... said... to you." His soft expression just keeps staring at her, letting her continue. He knows how much things like this take out of her, and how much they take for her to say them. "Castle, I heard you." She meets his eyes again. "But you were telling me to hang on. I was _so_ certain that you were there, your voice was so clear. And when it was Ryan who caught me, it... it hit me that it wasn't you. That, for the first time, you weren't there." He's opens his mouth to argue, or maybe begin a spew of apologies, but she beats him to it. "And it was all my fault." She says, quickly swiping a tear off her cheek.

"Kate-"

"I was so convinced that you were there, that when I realized you weren't there, it hit me just how far I had pushed you away. And when everything was over, I realized that when I should have been thinking about how I was never going to get my mother's killer, I realized that the only thing running through my mind was you and that if I died I'd never get to tell-" She stops rambling, realizing what she was about to say. The sentence stops in her chest.

She looks over to him, seeing he's still eyeing her sadly with an arched brow. He knows what she was going to say, or at least hopes he does, and he can see her changing her words around in her head.

"That I'd never get to tell that you I just wanted to be with you."

He smiles, a little heavily if he's honest with himself and reaches for her hand. "I'm sorry I wasn't there." He finally says.

"No, Castle," She says just above a whisper as she takes his hand, "you have nothing to feel sorry for." She tells him honestly, lifting his hand and letting it fall with hers down onto her lap. "If either of us has anything to feel sorry for, it's me." He raises a brow to her, "For letting it take almost dying to realize how much you mean to me."

He smiles, more than happy with her response. She'll say it when she's ready, or when she really does. It's fine with him if she doesn't want to call whatever she feels for him love just yet. He knows she doesn't let herself feel that, she has to force herself to. She may love him, but he doesn't want to force it. And if she doesn't, there's always time to make her fall for him.

But in the mean time, he's perfectly happy leaning over and firmly pressing his lips to hers.

* * *

It's around eleven o'clock, and it's a beautiful day.

Last night, he let her cook, and it may have taken a while, but the braciole her mom taught her how to make was well worth it. They ended the night in yet another fit of passion, actually making it to the bed, and now that everything's calmed down, it's just them relaxing, her thoughts are starting to go places that she doesn't want them to.

She's in a long sun dress, sitting outside with her phone in her hand while he's checking on the pool.

He's still out there. She walked away, and she wants it to be over, but it's all still going on. Everything they were after, whoever they were looking for, by now they've found him. And if they've found whoever they were looking for, they'll be coming for her. Maddox probably walked away only because he was certain that no one would be there to save her. If she doesn't stop this, they'll...

No, she can't do this to him. She told him that she stopped. That she wanted to stop for him, that it didn't matter to her anymore. That all that mattered to her now was him, was them. She can't break her promise to him.

But they're still out there, and they're going to kill her.

Before she realizes what she's doing, "Hey Ryan, it's me." She feels herself harden inside, "Where are you on the case?"

* * *

 **A/N: Bit of a shorter chapter, but a good place to end. Hope you guys like it, and are willing to forgive me.**

 **Told ya it wasn't all fluff and sex scenes.**


	8. Chapter 8

"You seriously mean to tell me you don't remember our very first kiss?" He asks her, seriously offended and more surprised that she actually forgot. That was the most amazing kiss he'd ever had. Who could she forget that?

Her raised cheeks and an eye roll that stopped half way, trying desperately to hold back her bright smile gave her away. She pushes her way through the bubbling water with a half lidded gaze and comes to straddle him. "I don't know." She says with a husky, seductive tone in her voice. She puts her hands on the edge of the hot tub, her legs grazing against his before she sinks back down to his eye level. "Why don't you remind me how it went."

He swallows past the lump in his throat, watching her start to float away. "Well..." He sits up in the hot tub and rolls his shoulders back. "We had to save Ryan and Esposito, and needed to get past an armed guard."

She nods slowly with a hum.

"And I offered the idea to act like a drunken couple to get past him, since you were..." He clears his throat as she eyes him, slowly making her way toward him, raising herself out of the water, "open to dumb ideas."

"First time for everything." She interjects.

"Well, despite our best efforts, it uh... wasn't working." He says to her, just inches away from her face. "So I decided to try and make it believable." She nods, letting the smile she's been fighting ever since she brought up this subject break apart just a little. "I grabbed you, put my hand in your hair." He reaches up out of the water, "Like this." Putting his hand on the back of her neck.

She's thought of that kiss ever since they shared it. She hadn't told herself to absorb everything that he was doing to her in those few seconds his lips were attacking, but she could never seem to forget any of it. Now, with his warm hand on her neck, his fingers pressing low into her scalp, she's running that kiss through her mind, thinking back to just how it felt to have her whole body ignite from inside her chest by the softest lips she's ever had kiss her.

He flexes his fingers into her hair, tied up in a haphazard bun, giving her the exact same look he gave her that night. That expression that says to her he's about to rob her of any coherent thought she's about to have.

He leans forward quickly, pressing his lips onto hers, and it may be just her, but her body reacts the same way it did that night. Shocked into being frozen by the slow wake of hot goosebumps erupting over her skin and drawing in a heavy breath that seems to lift her off the ground. Or the hot tub, as it were.

And it may be just her trying to reenact that night just how it played out, but she feels a light moan escape her throat when his lips move against hers again. His hand still on her neck, he starts pulling her off, but her lips keep fighting for contact, until he finally breaks the kiss. She leans back, looking at his pink, puffed lips, his dazed expression and slightly flushed cheeks. "Oh yeah." She says, moving her legs under the water to straddle him and snake her arms around his shoulders. "Now I remember."

"That moan." He says, his expression not changing from dazed and rosy eyed. His head tilts up to her and meets her eyes, half lidded. "I have to know. Please tell me that moan was real that night."

She feels a giggle rise in her stomach. "Oh, it was real." She says, running her nails back and forth through his hair on the back of his head. "You weren't really talking about how I knocked him it, were you?" She asks him with a flat tone.

"Well, the way you knocked him out was impressive but... no, no I wasn't." She smiles as her eyes dart down to his lips again. She leans down and starts kissing him lazily, her hand on the back of his head not letting him back away, though he gives no inclination of wanting to. "I've always wondered." He says into her mouth. They kiss again before he continues. "Did you ever tell Josh?"

She moans lowly again before letting him go. "No." She says, thinking that it was the end of it. But as she moves back in to keep kissing him, she feels him pulling back. When she moves back to question why, she see's him looking at her with a raised brow. "What?" She asks nonchalantly.

"You didn't tell Josh that we kissed?"

"Why would I? It's not like it meant anything." She half lies.

He challenges her by giving her a deadpan look.

"Castle, that relationship was always complicated, and telling him that you kissed me would have just added to it. And he wouldn't have understood anyway. And besides, how was I suppose to tell him that my partner had kissed me and it felt so amazing my legs almost gave out?"

"So if someone else kissed you, would you tell me?" He asks her seriously.

So that's what he's getting at. She thought he was heading in the direction of him bragging about how much better a kisser he is than Josh. She sighs, the hot, statically charged air fading as quick as the fire inside of her. She sighs, but doesn't move to get out of his personal space, which she's spent the past two days making her own anyway. "Castle, it's so much different with you."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"I'll never have to because I never will kiss someone else. You're my partner." She says moving her hand to his neck, her thumb stroking his jaw. She hopes that he gets her underlying meaning since she's not a cop anymore. "And I'd never put you through what Meredith put you through. I-" Her throat closes itself before she can say it. "You mean too much to me."

His eyes break away, looking into the bubbling water between them, then nods. "So I'm a better kisser than Doctor Moped?"

"Motorcycle boy, Castle." She corrects his past insult. "And yes. You are."

"What about..." She shakes her head after his words fall, and he shrugs his shoulders, eyeing downward.

She smiles and tightens her arms around him, moving herself closer to him. "I wouldn't know, I never slept with him." She says quickly. He lifts his head up to her with another questioning brow, obviously surprised at her answer. She scoffs, backs away and rolls her eyes. "I"m not a Pez dispenser, Castle. I don't open up just for anybody who wants some."

That earns her a snorted laugh.

"Besides, he was always gone. And when we were together, he was always exhausted." His expression softens, but falls. And with that, she needs to be honest with herself, and with him. She needs to let that voice tell him the truth. "And I don't think I would have slept with him anyway." She continues softly.

"What do you mean?"

"Well... there was you. I knew you were my partner, and I knew that that was where we drew the line. But the truth is it always felt like we were..." She chokes on her words, honestly at a loss as to what to call them.

"Something more?" He finishes for her, helping her search for a term.

She feels herself smile when she meets his eyes again. "Yeah. Something more."

He nods softly and his eyes cast downward, looking at her chest. And she feels herself heat up again, until his hand reaches up from the water and his finger finds the small scar, so small that if you weren't looking for it, you'd forget it's there. But not him, not them. His finger traces the rumpled ridges of her scar slowly, his deep ocean eyes lost in memories of what's behind it. "You know," She starts, "when I was recovering, I had this... recurring dream. Probably the worst I've ever had."

"That you got shot?" He asks, his eyes still lost in that warm, windy day at Montgomery's funeral.

"No." She pauses, watching his eyes slowly work their way up to hers, wondering. "That you took the shot for me." His eyes narrow slightly as his hand freezes against her scar. "I'd be giving the speech, hear the shot, and feel you tackle me. But you wouldn't move. Every time, I would push you off me and try to get you to open your eyes, but... you were already dead." She forces the words out, unable to look him while she says it. "I would plead with you, yell at you, shake you, but... every time, you were already dead." Her heart forces the next string of words out, knowing that he has to know how it made her feel. "I'd wake up with tears in my eyes every time until they stopped. And they didn't stop until I came to your book signing and saw you again."

His eyes are still down on her chest, centered on that small prick of skin. She expected at least some response, a light hearted dismissal, a way to make it all his fault, maybe. But his eyes are still flooded with memories, hooded.

"Castle?" She prods after going too long in silence, save for the hum of the motor for the hot tub and the bubbling of the water.

"Why did you lie to me?" He asks in a low, too honest tone. Not accusing, just desperately wanting to know.

She sighs and feels herself leaning away. "Rick..." She says in a dismissive tone.

"I need to know." He says stoically, looking up to her with a straight brow and hardened expression.

She lets out a heavy breath, preparing to offer him a confession that she can only hope won't break his heart. "I... I wish I could answer that without hurting you."

"Just tell me." He stops her from continuing, knowing she's trying to skirt the real issue.

She sighs again and looks down. "I thought that it offered the best outcome." She says heavily, guiltily.

"A better one than telling me the truth?"

"Castle, I had just been shot." She weakly defends herself, and she knows it's a tired excuse, one she used to defend herself to both herself and to Burke. "I thought that if I told you that I heard you and that I needed more time and I wasn't ready, that you wouldn't..." She lets her words fall, just now realizing that she simply didn't have faith in him.

"Wouldn't what?" He asks her, a lighter, more lifting tone in his voice.

"Wouldn't be there when I was." His brow lowers, his head cocking off to the side, giving her an astonished look. "Rick, I was going to tell you that when I first woke up. It was the first thought that I had." Great, she feels tears in her eyes. She didn't want to cry _again._ "But when you came by, and I saw you, telling you that I didn't remember just... seemed like the best option. And I wanted to tell you." She says, putting a hand on his jaw and moving his head up to look back to her. "So many times. But the more time that passed by, and the closer that we got, I didn't think that you'd want to understand."

Back to her original premise of not putting faith in him. Faith that he put in her, and he so rightly deserves returned.

He lets out a long breath, his shoulders visibly relaxing under her arms and his jaw unclenching under her hand. "I know it wasn't the best time to tell you." He says, his hands moving up her arms. "But I thought I was losing you." He continues, his hands slowly going down her back. "In those seconds, watching the light in your eyes frantically cling to the surface, I thought that if I didn't tell you how I felt then, I'd never get the chance to. And I didn't want to know what that hell would feel like."

She loves him. The thought finally bursts through, realization opening a new dawn up in her heart, fully admitting it to herself that what she feels for him as a name. She loves him, the words caught in her throat. "When did you know?" A thought coming from nowhere.

He chuckles, his eyes and hands still roaming her. "If I could tell you, I would." He says on a light chuckle. "There was no... love at first sight, no bolt of lightning, no sudden realization. You know, with everyone else that's meant something to me, I've had to convince myself that I was in love with them." He finally raises his eyes back to her, looking up to her with a small smile, shining with such fortified certitude. "But with you, I had to convince myself that I wasn't. And when I couldn't lie to myself anymore, I couldn't imagine myself being with anybody else."

Her heart is pounding in her chest, her throat has a lump in it so large she doesn't know how she's able to breathe, her lungs won't let any air out. He just took the words, verbatim, right out of her mouth. She was constantly having to convince herself that he was just her partner, that she didn't love him. Constantly. Always having to convince herself, repeat to herself like a mantra that she didn't love him.

Every shallow breath she's letting out feels like they are the start of a sentence. Her words desperately wanting to escape, banging so loudly, wanting out that now she doesn't want to say them because this isn't how she wants to feel when she tells him. As if they're the last words she'll ever say to him before she passes out.

She grabs his face, fiercely attacking his lips in a storm of erupting passion that feels as if it says the words for her. More moans escaping her, louder and longer than the one that did that night, that cold night that feels like a lifetime ago, lived by someone else entirely. With wanting lips, delving tongues, mewling limbs and softly splashing water, the words want to tumble from her lips, to escape into his mouth.

She wants to tell him that she loves him.

But not while she feels something is stopping her. And it feels as if it's the need to tell him.

* * *

 **A/N: So, came up with another story. Wanted to get your opinion before I started it, and don't want to leave this story hanging.**

 **Season 6 finale AU, wedding went off with out a hitch, and now Castle and Beckett are very happily married, with a four year old son. Their son gets kidnapped, and Castle and Beckett find their marriage strained trying to find him and get him back.**

 **I've already written quite a few scenes in my head. But I'm liking where this story is taking me, so I don't want to stop and veer off onto yet another story until I finish this one. I don't have a specific word count in mind, but I don't want to drag it out too long. But either way, let me know what you think! About the chapter and about the new story idea. Hella thanks!**


	9. Chapter 9

Ryan sighs as he closes the door the his car. Thoroughly exhausted, but his body not letting him slow down. Not having Espo is starting to wear on him. Especially since Gates is slow to assign him replacements for both him and Beckett. He just got a call from dispatch about a body, and as he walks down the street in Midtown, he goes through the tape and over to Lanie whose knelt over a body sprawled out on the sidewalk, a crowded sidewalk.

"What do we got, Lanie?" He asks, but feels his heart skip a beat when he takes account of the victim. "Whoa, that's... that's Maddox."

"Yep. Somebody wanted him dead something fierce."

"Yeah, crowded sidewalk, middle of the day." He says, talking a look around, looking for traffic cams pointed in this direction.

"Cause of death is a single stab wound to the right side. He died fairly quickly." Lanie says, circling the slit in the dark jacket Maddox has on.

"Single stab wound there killed him?"

"I'd guess it's a collapsed lung. Can't know for sure until I get him back to the lab, but judging from the blood collected in his throat, and on his teeth, he probably chocked on his own blood."

Kevin runs a hand over his hair and lets out a shaky breath. He's stressed. "Alright." He mutters to himself and turns around. "Hey, LT," he calls and waves him over. "Can you get a canvass going? Someone had to have seen something." LT nods and walks off.

He looks back down to Lanie, still taking notes on her clipboard, then back down to Maddox. Can't say he didn't deserve it. "So..." He begins, hoping to start some sort of train of thought. "Lanie, would you say this is the work of a pro?"

"If I had to guess?" She asks, standing back up. "Stab wound like that is too precise to be stroke of luck. If I were you, I'd reach out to my partner, who just so happens to be ex Special Forces."

"You know I can't do that, Lanie." He says with narrowed eyes and an exacerbated tone. "He's on suspension and even if he wasn't, he won't even talk to me for narcing on him to Gates." He finishes, and looking back down at Maddox. "Even if it did save Beckett's life." He mutters to himself.

"Come on, Kev." She says, lightly tapping him on the arm. "I'm sure if you talk to Gates, she'll bring him back in now that Beckett's quit. Even if it's not official, I'd still talk to him. Cause if I know Javi, he's not too happy sitting on his hands."

His minds tired, still going too fast. He can't focus. His partners gone, even Castle says he's out of town in the Hampton's. Yesterday, he was nowhere. So when Beckett called him, that's what he told her. Maddox was still out there and the case was still open. But now, Maddox is dead, and all he's left with is more questions. "Alright, let me know if you find anything else."

Lanie waves and he quickly goes off, back toward the car.

He needs to get Tori to start combing through traffic cam footage, wait for the canvas to get back, find out why Maddox was in Midtown, why he's dead, who killed him. He lets out a shaky breath at every overwhelming thing he's facing and pulls out his phone, taking a quick look around. The tone dials in his ear, and after the forth ring, he knows it's going to voicemail.

"T _his is Detective Kate Beckett. Please leave a name and number and I'll get back to you."_

He sighs, "Hey Beckett, you asked me to call if I got anything. Well, a body just dropped in Midtown, and it's Maddox. That's all I know so far, but I just wanted to let you know. Whoever did this was bold. So please... watch your back. I'm getting the feeling someone's cleaning house with this."

He hangs up and swipes his way to the next contact. But stops. He probably wouldn't even answer. Trust is the most important thing to Javi. And Kevin's had that until now.

* * *

"Mmm..." She moans as she pops the small piece of chicken into her mouth. "Wow, that's good."

His smirk widens and tosses the dish towel over his shoulder. "See? Not all of my concoctions are science fair projects."

They've been here for three days so far and it's been amazing. Long nights of passion, long mornings of passion and tired, sated banter, excellent meals prepared by them both, walks down by the beach, old movies on his projector screen. She could get used to this. "So have you thought about what it is you're going to do?"

"What do you mean?" She asks, honestly curious as she lifts her wine glass to her lips.

"Well, as much as I would love to spend the rest of my life pampering you," He says and goes moving about the kitchen, preparing dinner, "I know you well enough to know that that's not a life you'd want."

She nods, brought down by him reminding her of the world outside of this paradise, outside of them, reality crashing back to her like an apocalyptic asteroid. She knew she would have to think about this sometime. It was always quickly dismissed by either his lips being feathered somewhere on her body, or by her mind telling her that she could always just ask for her job back at the precinct. She shakes that thought away as it runs by, with the follow up that she's moving forward and that's not the way to do it.

"I haven't thought about it." She paraphrases.

"You ever considered going back to school?" He asks her, shutting off the stove top and coming to lean on the counter opposite of where she's sitting with her head in her hand. "Getting your law degree?"

She feels like she should smile at the idea. But all that comes to mind is why she had to transfer back from Stanford. Her mom was always telling her that she should go her own way. But following in her footsteps was the way she wanted to go before she was killed. "I don't know." She says, looking down into her glass and swirling her wine in a slow circle. "I think I'm at the point of my life where I'm going to look back and say how stupid I was for not seeing where it is I'm suppose to go."

He lets out a hollow chuckle and leans down low on his forearms, both of them looking down to the granite counter top as a silence falls over them. She doesn't want to fall into this rut. She doesn't want to get sucked in by all this, and he probably knows that. That's probably why he brought it up.

And that's exactly why he brought it up.

He doesn't want her to just be a trophy wife. She's made it clear that she feels she's at the cross roads of her life, still deciding which road she wants to take. And he doesn't want it to be him that's holding her back. He spun the idea of her going back to school when he thought back to when she first told him why she became a cop, when she was on her way to become Chief Justice, and how her face light up with prospects at the memory.

"Kate, if... all this," He leans back up and waves his hand around in a small circle when she lifts her head to look over to him, "is too much for you, then-"

"No." She says with a lift in her voice. "It's not that. It's..." She sighs and moves her hands off the counter, down into her lap, her shoulders deflating. "Getting my law degree, becoming a lawyer, a prosecutor, DA, Supreme Court Justice... that was the life that I had laid out before my mom died, a life that I gave up to become a cop. And I just don't know if there's enough pieces of that life to pick up."

"You're saying you don't think you can do it?"

"No, it's..." She sighs and looks down to her lap. "When I was nineteen, yeah, sure, it felt like I had the whole world at my feet. I mean, it took my four years just to figure out who I really wanted to be with." He smiles to himself when she look back up to him with an arched brow. "I don't know." She says on a heavy sigh.

He nods, deciding not to response or press the issue any further. If he's right, he's planted a seed in her mind. What she does with it is hers, and she'll let him know if it bares fruit.

But in the mean time, as Castle goes about getting two plates from the cupboard and serving up their meal, she feels her mind drift. Going from random memory to random memory until her mind settles on an unanswered question, and before she can stop herself, she's asking in a low voice with her mind still caught up in memories. "When did you find out?"

She sees a plate being slid in front of her, breaking her out of her trance, just realizing now that she's actually asked him. "Find out what?"

The emotions that come along with what she's asking now come crawling into her system. Fear, embarrassment, anxiety that this is going to start a fight, which would be their first as a couple. "That I lied to you." She says in a squeak, quick to make herself busy with pushing her food around her plate.

Much to her surprise, he sits himself up on the stool next to her and smirks. But she can tell that he's forcing it a little. "Well, you were a detective in a past life, if I'm correct." He says and takes a sip from his own glass. "When do you think it was?"

He's stopping the pain from those weeks in his chest. Not letting it rise any higher, gain any ground over him. She takes a breath and looks away, scrunching her brow. "Well, something changed right after that case with the bombing."

"Mhm." He hums, giving her a single nod, letting her know she's on the right track.

As her mind recalls details from that case. How close they seemed to be getting, how unrestrained and on edge his words felt when they talked. But then... "It was... sudden. I could tell that you were angry about something, and I thought that it was just something you didn't want to talk about. But..."

He stays silent as he watches her eyes make acute darts, as if reading from a page, sifting through her memories. He wants to see it in her face when she realizes what it was.

"I was in interrogation, with... Bobby. That pickpocket. There was a cup of coffee on my desk that was still warm. I asked Espo if he'd seen you, but he said that you had left suddenly." He sees her brow relax, her eyes widen for a moment, realization finally dawning in her expression before she closes her eyes and shakes her head. "Bobby was saying that he didn't remember anything because of the trauma... and I told him that I remembered my shooting."

He's trying to keep his expression relaxed, he's trying to keep everything relaxed. But he feels it failing. His brow feels hard, furrowing.

"You were watching from observation when I told him that I remembered." She says, still looking off to the side with an inwardly annoyed look. She closes her eyes and shakes her head downward. "How did I not figure it out before?"

He stays quiet, not trusting himself to say the right thing, what ever the hell that is.

She looks back over to him, her brow raised, almost desperately. "Rick, I'm-" She shuts herself up and leans back with another annoyed shake of her head. She sighs and looks off to the side again, straightening her brow. Still, saying she's sorry seems like an insult after everything she's done. She wants them to move past it, but at times like this, she doesn't know how they will ever manage too. But she clings to the knowledge that he's her light at the end of the tunnel.

"When I first heard you say that you'd remembered, at first I didn't believe you. I thought that you were just bluffing to get him to crack. But... I thought back to all the times I tried to bring it up and how dismissive you were. I won't lie, it hurt. Because I didn't think you'd do that to me. It made me-" He cuts himself off, not ready to let her know just how badly he felt damaged by her then.

"Made you what?" She prods. After he doesn't answer and keeps his eyes trained on the floor, he sees her reach over and lay her hand on his knee. "Made you what, Rick? I want to know."

He sighs and feels the shield he put up crack. "Made me feel like I didn't know you. Because you were my partner, and we trusted each other. But finding out that you could look my in the eye, every day, for a year, and lie to me so easily..." He stops when she tightens her soft grip on his knee.

He looks back to her and sees her eyes shimmer with hurt, regret at what she's done. She closes them slowly and lets her head fall, letting out a bitter chuckle before letting her hand slip off of him. "Why'd you come back?" She asks, her tone not wanting an answer. "Knowing that I'd lied to you, that I knew how you really felt, but just went about as if everything was normal between us. That I'd betrayed your trust, that I looked you in the eye, day after day, and lied to you. After all that, why'd you come back?"

His answer comes immediately. "Because I love you."

* * *

His breaths are even, his mind dark.

He looks slowly and sees him. Turning his head down into his hood, making himself smaller, he waits.

Ballard pulls out a phone from his pocket, looking behind him. "Yeah. It's me."

He listens, but can't make everything out. "... _this num..."_

"I'm sorry, Sir, but it's urgent. Maddox is dead."

"... _find the..."_

"He didn't have it with him."

" _With that... can't risk... Detective Bec..."_

Beckett. He remembers that name. From... somewhere. "From what I hear, she's up in the Hampton's with Castle, the writer."

" _Make sure... make it."_

He sees Ballard's face harden with a smirk. "Don't worry, Sir. They won't make it back." Ballard hangs up the phone.

With one fluid motion, Ballard goes down and he catches him, dragging him between the dumpsters. He'll have to deviate. Picking up the phone, he slips it in his pocket before taking off his jacket and dumping it. He jogs across the street into the next alley, pulling out a fifty and handing it to the old man looking up to him from a cardboard box. "What's this for?"

"Your coat."

* * *

 **A/N: Don't worry. I know exactly where I'm going with this. I don't plan on falling into the trap of planting evidence before having a conclusion in mind. Like I feel they did with the end of season six, planted evidence and started a plot line without having a single clue as to how to make it work or how it was going to end.**

 **Also, the ending dialogue between Castle and Beckett is part of the story that I intended to write whenever I started this story, but is now applicable to any who didn't like how Castle, if just for one night, took Beckett back with open arms without having a long drag out fight, calling him a doormat, ect. He loves her, for god sake. And love is anything but logical. Overall, I liked 8x07. Hope you guys did to, and liked this chapter. Case work starting, hope it's followable.**

 **Let me know!**

 ***While updating this chapter due to a missed typo, I accidentally posted it as a new chapter. 3 am before a ten hour shift. Please forgive me if you received an alert due to a new chapter post. Sorry for the confusion.**


	10. Chapter 10

The elevator slides open, and Kevin just wishes he wouldn't be leaving his courage in this elevator with him. As he steps off, he has a fleeting dream of catching the doors before they slide closed. But once he hears them close, he knows there's only one way out of this, and it's not running away. Gates would kill him if he knew where he actually was instead of running down leads they both know won't lead anywhere. Hell, he'd probably be dead already if she knew that he called Beckett. He shakes his head, swallows his breath and pride, and marches down the hall, forcing his hand to knock on the door before his mind can catch up to him and decide against it.

It's a second or two after that that a thought occurs to him, and he puts a finger over the peephole. He won't actually answer the door otherwise. He waits anxiously, his breath turning around in his throat and going the other way once he hears the locks turn. The door flies open, and Kevin is staring down the barrel of a snub nose revolver. Kevin leaps back, hand on his Glock 17, " _Whoa!_ " Ryan exclaims, one hand on his Glock, the other holding a police file in front of him.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Javier angrily mutters, lowering his .357 and turning back into his darkened apartment, leaving the door open. Kevin takes that as an indication to follow him, but is doing it anyway, and only thinks to speak to him from the hallway as the door closes behind him.

"I need your help, Javi." He says, artificially lowering his voice to not sound desperate and pleading, or god forbid pathetic.

Javier just slowly saunters deeper into his dark apartment, dangerously tossing his gun down on the table as he moves into the kitchen. "Why don't you ask your partner?" He calls sarcastically, seeing the light of the fridge come on.

Kevin shakes his head and reaches over to turn on the light. His frustration is quickly overcoming his fear of losing him as a friend for good. "That's what I'm doing." He states as a fact.

Javier saunters back into the living room with a beer, shrugs his shoulders and leans his head back. "Can't imagine how, I'm the only one here. And I sure as hell ain't your part-"

" _Stop it!"_ Ryan shouts, completely fed up with his passive aggressive bull. "Alright?" He finishes, tossing the file he brought down on the coffee table. "I have two bodies on my hands, one of them's a cop, and I can't handle this on my own!"

That seemed to change Esposito's disposition, opening to hear Ryan's case, at the very least. "Gates know your here?"

"Of course not, she'd probably suspend me too if she did." He vents, putting a hand on his hip and running the over over his hair, pacing across the floor.

It's then that Javier looks down at the file that he tossed down onto the coffee table, sliding the photo out of the file that had spilled out. A picture of Maddox's body. "Maddox?" He asks, looking up to Ryan, who's still pacing in front of the coffee table.

"Yeah, Lanie thinks whoever killed him was Special Forces." Javier flips to the ME report, looks at the diagram of the location of the wounds, and stands up, holding the photo in hand. "She said a single stab wound right there is too precise to not be the work of a pro."

Still examining the crime scene photos, Javier waves Ryan over. "Ryan," he calls. he complies and stands a few feet away. Espo grabs a pen on the table against the wall with his right hand, and starts quickly toward him. He puts his left hand on Ryan's shoulder, and quickly thrusts his right hand up toward his rib cage before Ryan can even react, holding it there so Kevin and see what it looks like. After a moment, Javier steps away, "It's a Special Forces move, text book. You have footage of the perp?" He asks, shuffling back toward the couch and rifling through the photos again.

"Face was covered, we followed him into an ally, but he disappeared after that."

Javier then gets to the photo of Ballard, a patrolman from the Twelfth, and his heart stops, sinking in his chest. "Ballard?"

"Found in an alley this morning in mid town, neck was snapped and gun was missing."

After looking at the photos of the scene, he looks for the ME report on Ballard, once finding it, confirming what he thought. "Oh yeah. This guy is Special Forces, alright. If I had to take a guess..." He starts, standing up with the photo of Ballard, "probably a Ranger."

"What makes you say that?"

Javier shows Ryan the ME report, "There was bruising on the back of his right knee, and snapping a neck is harder than it looks. It's a classic Ranger move, one fluid motion. Kick your opponent to the ground from behind, snap the neck and bring them to the ground. It's designed to quietly take down someone without making a sound."

"That sounds like something they'd teach to anyone in Special Forces, what makes you so sure this guy's an Army Ranger?"

"The Rangers are more trained in hand to hand combat than anyone. No one but a Ranger would be able to pull off stuff like this so cleanly and just disappear."

"Alright, I'll call Gates." He says, taking out his phone.

"Whoa whoa whoa, you're calling Gates?" Espo asks, somewhat angrily.

"What the hell else am I supposed to do?"

Javier goes up to Ryan and snatches the phone out of his hands with a furrowed brow. "The 75th Ranger Regiment is one of the most exclusive group of soliders in the whole military. Chances are, if this guy was a Ranger, someone knows who he is, and I got a few friends who used to be in the 75th."

Ryan nods, feeling uncomfortable going behind the Captain's back with all this, feeling anxious. "Well, at least let me try Beckett again. This is her case, after all."

Javier nods, "What about Castle?"

Ryan shakes his head, putting his phone to his ear. "Nah, he's up in the Hampton's with some girl, last I called."

"A girl? He told you that?" He asks, surprised. He hasn't seen that Castle around in years.

"No, but I could hear her in the background."

* * *

He pushes open the door, pulling her inside ahead of him, smiling as he sees her drift on the cloud they've both been riding on all week. She sashays her way toward the kitchen, running her finger along the seam of the couch cushion. "You know I could have taken you home, right?" He asks, slowly following her.

"What am I gonna do there? I'm unemployed and it's Thursday afternoon. Am I gonna... walk around in my underwear and talk to myself?" She jokes.

Castle enters the kitchen, stopping and facing her as he reaches the counter. "Well, you're more than welcome to do that here."

Beckett stops and gives him an obvious look. Castle smiles a boyish smile and turns to start a pot of coffee. Beckett shakes her head, but lets a chuckle or two escape, despite her protests not to laugh at that, pulling her phone out of her pocket as she feels it vibrate. Seeing who it is, her breath catches, and a cold bullet runs up her spine. She casts a glance up to him, seeing him search through his different flavors of coffee grounds. She already betrayed him and looked back once when she called Ryan, and they've come so far, she doesn't want to take a step back and end all their progress.

Fighting herself, she silences the call, and slips the phone back into her pocket, physically shaking the outside world out of her mind and stepping up to the counter with a smile. She hates that she has to force it now.

"So," He starts, turning back toward her as the coffee pot begins to brew, "what do you think?" He asks, his eyes shining, smile soft.

"Of what, Castle?" She asks on a chuckle while she slides herself up into one of the chairs, pulling out her phone, ignoring the voicemail icon on her phone and going through the pictures to pick out the ones she wants printed and framed.

"Of us." He answers on a shrug.

Beckett smiles and sets her phone down, looking up to him. "We're not at all what I'd thought we'd be."

His brow lifts and he leans back. "Is uh... what do you mean by that?" He asks, somewhat scared to hear her answer, and frightened to hear her explanation.

"I always thought when we got together we'd be walking on eggshells with each other. I always figured that we wouldn't know how to handle finally... crossing that line."

He narrows his eyes and turns around, going to the coffee pot to pour them each a cup. "What makes you say that?"

She shrugs and waits for him to come around to the other side of the counter to sit next to her, handing her a cup of coffee. "I don't know, I guess because that's what it was like with everyone else. I came to expect it out of everyone I've been with." She starts, reflecting, trying to make sense of her own interpretation of her past life. "Does that make sense?" She asks, honestly, looking down to the dark liquid in her cup.

He feels a smile prick at the edges of his mouth. "I think you came to expect it because you wanted it that way."

She looks up after a moment between them, surprised by such an honest answer. He looks serious, but his soft openness overpowers it.

"You've always gone into a relationship with someone you didn't connect with so you wouldn't have to. You've been hiding in these dead end relationships so you would have an excuse. But now, you go into a relationship with someone you know you connect with, and you're surprised because he does something that no one else would."

She pauses, and looks up to up with big eyes and a frown, knowing everything he's saying is so painfully true. "What's that?"

He looks into her eyes and the smile pricking the edges of his lips gain just a bit more ground. "He doesn't buy your excuses, and he knows that you want something you've never actually gone after before."

"What's that?" She asks again in a soiled voice.

"You don't want to hide anymore."

That sets something off in her chest. She feels her heart burst, setting her legs into motion and sliding off her chair, setting her cup down on the counter and stepping between his legs, grabbing his face and kissing him, firmly at first, but fiercely once she feels him pull her in by a firm grip on her waist. Her lips slide against his and her arms snake themselves around his shoulders, fingers weaving themselves into his hair. He responds to every once of passion she's giving him with interest, until they can't go any further without it ending in bed. He's right.

She kisses him deeply, one last time before she separates them, moaning in both grief that his lips left hers and in satisfaction of what they just did to her. "So what do you think of us?" She asks, wanting him to reassure her that she can actually pull off a relationship with him.

His puffed lips smile and he reaches up, brushing her hair behind her ear and caressing her cheek with his thumb, "We're exactly what I always knew we could be, which is everything I've always wanted."

She feels a smile burst onto her face again and she leans forward, capturing his lips the best she can over her smile. They kiss lightly a few more times before a knock on the door reminds them there's a world outside, and it's not listening to their demands that it leave them alone. "I'll get it." Castle says, kissing her chastely one last time as he slides off the chair and goes to the door, leaving Beckett to sip her coffee and flip through their pictures again.

Castle opens the door, his spine straightening itself upon seeing who's on the other side. "Captain Gates." He says, surprised.

That grabs Beckett's attention, who slides off her chair and stiffly meanders toward the foyer.

"Hello, Mr. Castle. Do you have a moment?"

"We-uh... sure, come on in." He says with a friendly smile. Gates steps around him and starts into the loft, but stops when she sees her former detective standing in Castle's loft, almost awkwardly running her hands down her pant legs.

"Beckett..." She says, an unwavering, stern tone.

"Sir." She says behind the veil of her hair.

"What can I help you with, Captain?" Castle asks her, coming around to stand next to his girlfriend.

"Well, we just had one of our own officer's murdered and I was hoping that you'd be willing to lend us your help. The Twelfth precinct is currently short staffed as we search for Beckett's replacement." She says, lifting a hand to Beckett.

"Who was murdered?" Beckett asked, stopping the subject at the news that one of their own was murdered, her old self breaking through just for a second, not even giving her a chance to put up a fight.

"Officer Cory Ballard. He was found with a snapped neck in Midtown this morning."

"Do you have any leads?" Castle asks, knowing how seemingly important this is to Beckett.

"I have Ryan running down a few things, but he's not turning anything up, and I don't need to tell you how important it is to the city that we find his killer and bring him to justice."

"No, of course, I understand. Uhm..." He starts, looking over to Beckett, silently asking permission.

But Beckett puts a hand on his arm and flashes a smile that is anything but real. "Will you excuse me for a minute?" She says, quickly going into Castle's office with her phone and closing the door behind her. She puts it to her ear once she has the message playing.

 _"Hey Beckett, it's Ryan. Listen, Maddox was found dead yesterday and this morning, we found Officer Ballard in an alley with his neck snapped. I just talked to Esposito and he thinks it's by the same person, and seems to think he's an Army Ranger."_ She sees the door open, and sees Castle step through, looking concerned, catching a glimpse of Gates looking at her over his shoulder right before he closes the door again. _"I don't know how Ballard is connected to Maddox or any of this, but I'm worried whoever it is might be coming after you. I know you don't want any part of this anymore, but just let me and Esposito come by and explain everything we got, and hopefully keep Gates out of it. Thanks."_

The message end there. She tries to force her breath out, deeper than it wants to go. She feels numb. "Who was that?" Castle asks.

She stops a second before answering honestly. They were doing so well, so in love, making so much progress, she feels no choice but to lie to him. "That was uh... that was Ryan. He tried to call me to get me on the case again, but... he knows I can't. Not now."

Castle nods and starts toward her slowly. "Listen, Kate... I know you're done with detective work. And I'll tell Gates I can't do it if you want me to stay... but this is a dead cop, and next to you, I'm probably the best chance he has at finding justice."

She swallows around the lump in her throat and nods despite herself, letting him step up to her so she can reach out to the buttons on his shirt. "No, you're right. Ballard was a good man, he deserves justice. And I can't go back there even if Gates would let me. You go with her, and I'll uh... I'll just go back to my apartment. You can stop by tonight, okay? I'll have dinner ready."

He smiles sadly and kisses her forehead. "You know this isn't what I wanted to happen, don't you?"

She matches his smile and nods. "Real world had to come crashing back to us eventually, right?"

He breathes a soft chuckle. "I'll see you later?"

She smiles, "Yeah."


	11. Chapter 11

_"Yeah, Ryan."_

"Hey Ryan, it's Beckett." She says, voice slightly hushed as she unlocks the deadbolt on her door, looking over her shoulder and down the hall.

" _Hey Beckett. Me and Esposito are on our way there now."_

"No, just send Espo." She tells him, closing and locking tight door behind her. "Gates just stopped by Castle's loft and brought him on the case, he's heading down to the precinct now. Go and meet up with him. You're needed more down there anyway."

" _Are you sure? Beckett, if this is connected to your shooting, you could be in danger."_ He says over the phone, Kate only half listening as she takes the small lock box down from the top shelf of her closet.

She answers him as she sets it down on her bed and presses the eight digit combination. "Just drop Esposito off here and go back to the precinct. Castle should be there by the time you get there." Once the lock box chirps, she opens the latch and opens it. "And Ryan..."

 _"Yeah?"_ He asks, not knowing how personal and how much it's going to hurt asking him what she's going to ask him.

"Please... do me a favor and don't let Castle know I called you last week. He doesn't need to know." She asks, the words stinging her throat, making her mouth taste... almost sour, as if she can taste what betrayal tastes like. She pushes a hand into her hair and balls it into a fist, ready to pull it out of her own head at the fact that she just did this.

" _Uh... sure thing, Beckett."_ Ryan agrees, clearly uneasily.

She lets out a long, shaky sigh, "Thanks, Ryan." She says at the end of it. He hangs up after telling her that Espo will be there in a few minutes. After hardening herself with a few deep breaths, each one more steady than the last, the reaches into the lock box, pulls out her private sidearm, the two empty magazines, and the box of ammo, quickly loading 10 rounds in each magazine, locking the slide back, and slamming in the magazine, the slide loading a round as she does. Once everything is put back and locked up, her gun still in hand, she hears a knock on the door.

Taking a deep breath, she tightens her grip on the handle and goes to the door. "Who is it?" She calls to the other side.

"It's Esposito." She checks the peephole, and sees that it's really him. She holsters the gun in her back waistband of her jeans and opens the door, leaving it open and moving back into her apartment. "Hey Beckett." He says, sounding glad to see her. She doesn't answer, a tornado of emotions, all of them bad, still raging inside of her. "You carrying?"

She turns around, seeing him just closing the door. She nods and continues to pace about her living room. "Yeah... you?" She asks, palms pressed into her sides. Espo stands in the foyer, smirks, and lifts the side of his jacket. Seeing his own side arm, holstered in the side, she feels a chuckle rise in her. "Kind of small, don't you think?"

Esposito throws his jacket back and shakes his head. "Well, I can't conceal my shotgun." He shrugs. She laughs, mostly forcing it for Esposito's sake, and falls onto her couch, starting to pick at one of her nails. Her mind can't seem to focus on anything else. Why is she making such a big deal about this? He would understand, wouldn't he? She winces at the thought, knowing that wouldn't be how he sees it. "So, you're really done?" Esposito asks her, sitting down in the chair perpendicular to the couch.

She nods, only glad at the fact that he's decided to give her something else to focus on. "Yeah." She simplifies.

Espo nods, seems to take her reply for a second, but is asking her a followup question that she doesn't have the heart to give an honest or realistic answer in her current state of mind. "Why?"

She lets out a hard breath and sits forward, elbows on her thighs. "I just figured out that I wanted something that the badge couldn't get me. And once I did, I had to go get it."

Esposito nods and sits back, propping up a foot on his leg. "Well, I'm sure Castle's happy about it." He says, a smug look on his face.

Beckett just narrows her eyes at him and stands up, her legs not letting her sit still. She quickly makes her way into her dining room and pulls her gun out of her waistband, setting it down on her table. "So, what do you have?" She asks, bracing herself against the table.

Esposito, following her, goes to the other side of the table and shakes his head. "Not much. Just what Ryan told you over the phone."

"How are you so sure that Maddox's and Ballard's murders are connected?"

"Maddox drops on a busy street, broad daylight with no witnesses, and then Ballard gets killed in the same area with no signs of a struggle, no signs he even put up a fight, and no evidence left behind. Whoever did this is a ghost."

"And you're sure that he was in the military?"

"The only people I know who could pull off something like this and just disappear are Rangers. And if this guy is a Ranger, chances are I can find out who he is."

"What makes you say that?"

"The 75th Ranger Regiment is pretty tight knit, and I know a few of them. I have a few of them meeting me in an hour." Beckett nods, brow furrowing and knuckles white against the table. Esposito notices and nods up to her. "Something wrong?"

She breathes out a bitter chuckle and runs another hand through her hair, pacing away from the table. She turns back around, tears burning in her eyes, all her physical energy concentrated on not letting them fall. "I just want this to be over." She should be telling this to her boyfriend, to the man she loves. Instead she's lying to him. God, what is she doing to them? "I was moving on." She shrugs her shoulders, throwing her arms half way up into the air. "I finally admitted to myself what I really wanted but that's just not enough, is it?" She asks nobody, her voice starting to get soiled.

Esposito averts his eyes down to the table, not really knowing how to respond in a way that she'd accept. There's a long, one sided awkward pause between them as Beckett paces back and forth in front of the table, regaining herself. "Beckett..." He starts, waiting for her to acknowledge him. She turns and leans against a wall with her arms crossed and expression blanked. "I know what this case has done to you. But if you believe you can't walk away, you never will."

Her eyes fall to the floor as her neck cranes. "What are you saying?" She asks in a small voice.

"I'm saying that if you want to walk away, then walk away."

"Espo, we both know it's more complicated than that." And it is... but it isn't. It's all just excuses upon excuses.

Esposito checks his watch, then looks back to her. "Is it?" He asks rhetorically, then slowly makes his way out of her apartment.

As she hears the door close, her heart sends a shudder through her body and she shivers. She uncrosses her arms and fruitlessly rubs the cold goosebumps away. She walks over to the couch and sits down with her legs curled up to her chest. She knows what she wants. She wants to be in his arms. The more she imagines his arms being around her, being cuddled into the warm, solid cove of his body, the colder she feels realizing that he's not here. She forces her eyes closed at this though. Why is she suddenly so weak? She's supposed to be stronger than this. She knows she's more resilient than this.

She takes her phone off the coffee table and goes to the pictures, knowing which one she's looking for. And once she finds it, she feels a smile blossom onto her face, feeling warm inside for the first time since he left her alone in the loft. The picture taken by a passerby on the beach in the Hampton's. Her in a long, pale blue sun dress, and him in a polo shirt that's more tight fitting than usual, arms wrapped around her, with her arms wrapped loosely around his shoulders, his head resting on top of hers. She's smiling so brightly, but he just has a soft smirk painted across his face, but it conveys so much happiness. She loves the height difference between them. She's always wearing heels, but here she just has on sandals.

She misses him so much right now.

She goes to her photo printer and quickly prints out the picture, then trimming it to fit in a four by six picture frame. After replacing an old photo of just her with this one, she goes back into her bedroom and places the picture on her nightstand, running her finger along the glass where his face is pictured before she stands up and goes back into the living room. There's still a tight mixture of anxiety, guilt, and betrayal swirling together with love, hope, and optimism, so much so that she doesn't know what to make of her current situation right now.

It shouldn't be this complicated to just walk away from it all and move on. But Esposito's right. If she believes she can't, then she never will.

* * *

Castle makes his way into the precinct, somewhat of a shallow feeling rising up inside him, being back here without his partner. The hallow feeling inside him makes him run dry when he comes up to the murder board and sees her desk cleared off and empty. "Hey Ryan." He says, pretending he doesn't notice.

Ryan turns and smiles brightly. "Hey Castle!" Ryan slaps his hand inside of Castle's and pulls him in, patting him on the arm. He forgot what it feels like to have friends like Ryan and Esposito. True friends. Something he can't really remember having. "What are you doing here?"

"Gates brought me on, said you needed help with the case." He says, nodding toward the board, where he sees the pictures of two people. One of Maddox, and the other of Officer Cory Ballard. "Where are you so far? You got any leads?"

Ryan looks toward his Captain's office and crosses his arms. "I got Espo running a few things down. I showed him what we have on Maddox and Ballard, and he thinks that it could have only been done by an Army Ranger."

"An Army Ranger? Aren't they supposed to be the most highly trained military unit in the world?" He asks.

"I don't know, something like that. Espo said he knew some people and was going to ask around and get back to me."

"How are you so sure that Ballard was targeted because of Beckett's shooting?"

"I'm not. I'm just going on the basis that it was the same killer."

"Was anything taken?"

"Uh..." Ryan stutters as he reaches for the file on his desk. "Didn't take his wallet, but his cell phone and his gun are missing. I have a BOLO out on the gun now, and we have Tory waiting for a call to be made with his number so we can trace it."

"What about Maddox?"

Ryan steps over to the murder board again, looking at the notes written down. "Whole lot of nothing. Witnesses said that they saw him clutch his chest for a few seconds, then drop to the ground. By the time they were calling 911 he was dead. No one saw anything, murder weapon wasn't at the scene, and he didn't have anything on him."

Castle looks between the two photos, trying to write a story in his head that makes sense. Why these two men? Why Ballard, just a beat cop out of the Twelfth? He knows a lot of people here at the Twelfth, but he's maybe seen Ballard once, or twice. "What do you know about Ballard?"

Ryan, somber, steps up next to him after meandering back to his desk, shakes his head. "Transferred to the Twelfth in the summer of last year. Single, no immediate family in the area, no disciplinary actions. Just a normal cop."

"So why him?"

Ryan crosses him arms and hangs his head. "I've been wracking my brain trying to figure that out."

Castle, not wanting it to be true, takes a step closer to Ryan, "Have you pulled financial records on Ballard yet?"

Ryan looks around, surprised at Castle's question. "No, why would we?"

It's here that Castle looks down to the floor, not bothering if Ryan follows his train of thought. "Maddox wouldn't be out on the street at that time for nothing, he must have been going to get something."

"What about someone?" Ryan interjects. Castle looks up to him. "We managed to get a copy of the picture Maddox stole from Montgomery's wedding album." Ryan goes to the file and pulls it out, watching Castle's face go pale when he looks at it. "You know him?"

"He was going to get the file." He mutters.

"File? What file?"

"The file that's been keeping Beckett alive. The file that has everything on everyone involved in this."

"So what, you think they got the file?"

"No, if they did, Beckett would already be dead." Castle and Ryan both muse, talking just below ear level from everyone else, until Castle forms a thought. "First Maddox gets killed in broad day light, taking the risk of being seen by someone, so he must have been on his way to get the file when he was killed."

"But how does that lead back to Ballard?"

"I don't know, but if Maddox was going after that file, that means that he's dead." He says, tapping two fingers against the photo of Smith. "And if he's dead, there's no reason to keep them from killing Beckett."

* * *

 **A/N: Odd place to end it, it may seem, but if I went any further, it would have been way too long. I try to keep the chapters between 2500 to 3000 word count. Let me know what you think in a review. I hope I'm not boring you with case work. Next chapter will be better. More Caskett. (Also, if any of the logistics are off when I am referencing the Army Rangers, please let me know. There's only so much I can learn from youtube documentaries.) **


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N: Glad to be continuing this story. I'll try not to bog you down too much with case work, but I hope that it makes sense nonetheless. Let me know what you think of this chapter. :)_

Esposito knots his brow and pulls the door open to the bar, a usual drinking hole for off duty and retired military. It's about half full, some at the bar, a few old military retirees sitting in booths, and two men at a table near the back, sitting side by side. One of them has a shaved head, the other just has a buzz cut with full arm tattoos. The smaller one, he knows, went through the Marine sniping school together. He quickly makes his way through the bar, smiling widely and he throwing out his arms to him as he stands up, while the other one just looks at them, a casual smirk on his face. "What's good, Espo?" He asks.

"Not much, Tim." Esposito says as he grabs his friend's hand, shaking it vigorously.

They exchange a few pleasantries, poking fun at each other over military jargon before Esposito settles into the matter at hand. He leans forward on his forearms, looking over between Tim and the other, who introduced himself as Mark. "So what's goin' on, Espo?" Tim asks, a light Brooklyn accent coming across in his voice.

Esposito takes out the two photos from his jacket pocket and puts them down on the table between them. "I got a hitman and a cop dead, both dropped with no witnesses, no evidence, and no leads." The two veterans pick up a photo each, looking at it, looking at each other after a minute inquisitively. "I know the techniques of a Ranger when I see them. And if this guy is a Ranger, I'm betting you guys know him."

Mark looks over to Tim, who's looking back at him with a hard, knowing look. After a few seconds, Tim shakes his head subtly. "It ain't him." Tim says under his breath.

Mark just hardens his stare. "He killed a cop, Tim."

"It _ain't_ him." He says harder.

"Who?" Esposito interjects.

Mark just stares at his friend for a few seconds before turning back to Esposito. "Lieutenant Derricks." He says lowly, looking off to the opposite side.

"Who's that?" Esposito asks with a shake of his head.

Tim lets out a breath and leans forward, shaking his head as if to give up on his resolve. "Second Lieutenant Greg Derricks." He tells him as Esposito pulls over a napkin to write down the name. "He went AWOL about a year ago, no one's seen him since."

Esposito nods, still writing down the name he was just given. "Any idea what happened? Soldiers don't just go AWOL, especially Rangers."

Mark lets out a hard sigh before leaning forward. "We were running missions out of southern Iraq, trying to take down this group of drug runners that were harassing some locals. One night, Lieutenant Derricks gets an urgent call from back home. He disappears that night."

"Any idea what the call was about?"

Tim chimes in, being clear it's hard for him to be giving this information. "A few weeks into the tour, Derricks got it hard for some journalist, an oversees correspondent tracking the Iraqi drug trade. She's the only thing that was able to take Derricks mind off his duty. It was good for him in a way, ya know?" He says, shrugging his shoulders.

Esposito nods and lets the pair continue, Mark going on. "A few weeks before Lieutenant Derricks disappears, she comes back home to New York. After Derricks left, we started hearing rumors that she'd been killed."

Esposito feels his heart harden, nodding as he looks back over to Tim. "We found out a few days after that she'd been shot over in the Heights, cops ruled it a mugging gone wrong. We all figured that when Derricks got the news, he snapped. Wouldn't be the first time to happen to a soldier."

"This girl's name, you remember what it was." Espo asks, picking his pen back up.

"Baxter… Lisa Baxter." Mark replies, watching as Esposito writes the name down below Derricks'.

"Let me tell you something, Esposito." Tim says angrily, leaning forward over the table, his finger jabbed into the table. "Lieutenant Derricks was the most patriotic son of a bitch in the military, he ain't no cop killer."

"Well, unless you can give me another name, I gotta run this down." He says, shaking the napkin in his hand.

"Derricks has saved both our asses more than once, I'd bet my life on it. He wouldn't kill a cop."

"Then what do you suggest?" Esposito challenges, leaning back with a raised brow.

"I suggest you take another look at your cop. Because the Greg Derricks I know wouldn't kill a cop unless he was dirty."

* * *

"Sir?" Ryan says nervously before lightly tapping on his Captain's door frame.

Gates looks up over her glasses, standing at her desk shuffling through paperwork. "Yes, Detective Ryan, what is it?" She asks, sounding annoyed and not stopping rifling through her papers.

"I would like to put a protective detail on Beckett." He says, coming to stand squarely in front of Gate's desk.

That stops Gates, who looks up to him, pulls off her glasses, and shoots a glance over his shoulder to look at Castle, who followed him in a few moments later. "And why is that?"

"I'm not entirely sure yet, Sir, but I think that Maddox and Ballard may have the same killer."

Gates' brow raises on one side as she plates her fist against her hip, staring her last detective down. "And just how did you come to this conclusion, Detective?"

Ryan lets out a breath and looks down. "Lanie said that the killer might have been Special Forces, so I went to get Esposito's advice." Ryan tells her, straightening his arms, as if standing at attention. "He's talking to a few contacts he has and will see what they can tell him."

Castle can feel the fire shooting from Gates' eyes from his place in the doorway. "And you realize that Detective Esposito is currently on suspension and isn't permitted to be involved in an active police investigation in _any capacity?"_ She asks, coming to a shout.

"I realize that, Sir, but Beckett is my friend, and if someone is out there gunning for her, I'm going to do what I can to stop them." Ryan says, finding his resolve quickly and standing up to Gates. "If you want to suspend me for that, then fine."

Gates stares over to him with her usual stone cold gaze, letting out a long sigh of frustration. "Well, I can't suspend you, you're my last detective." She looks down at her desk for a moment before nodding her head slowly. "You can have a protective detail put on Beckett's apartment, and I expect a full report detailing every single piece of information you have on this case and how it involves former Detective Kate Beckett on my desk tomorrow morning."

Ryan nods, "Yes, Sir." He says and quickly turns to move out the door.

"And Ryan." Gates stops him. Ryan stops and turns on his heel, standing at attention to his Captain again. "You can write that report while you're on that protective detail you just asked for."

Ryan nods his head quickly, frustrated he's getting punished, frustrated he's having to deal with bureaucratic bull just to protect his friend, and still trying to clear his head enough to straighten out the confusing, tangled details of this case. Ryan quickly goes back out into the bullpen, stepping around Castle and over to his desk. "Ryan," Castle says, coming to stand next to him with his hands in his pockets. Ryan looks over to him with his phone to his ear. "Have it sent to my place. It's a secured building, she'll be safer there."

Ryan nods and looks down to his key pad. "Alright, I'll call her again and tell her to-"

"Again?" Castle interrupts. Ryan whips around, his eyes wide and brow crooked. Castle feels his brain stutter to think, his ears trying to deny what he heard. "Sh… She called you?"

* * *

Castle returns to the loft a few hours later, staying at the precinct after Ryan had left with the detail he had requested. Beckett had sent him a text, but he didn't answer. Ryan had left still waiting for word from Esposito, while something about this case just didn't sit well with him. Everything's not sitting well with him right now.

He had pulled the details out of Ryan, who was hesitant to give them up, not really wanting to get in the middle. Castle hadn't bothered to tell them that him and Beckett had started dating, but Ryan could tell whenever he told him when she had called him that it hurt. The Hampton's getaway was supposed to be whisking her away to a romantic beach house, getting her to relax, take her mind out of the city and out of the case that she clearly needed and wanted space from.

But how can he take her away from all this if she doesn't want to be apart from it? And it's not even so much that she called Ryan to ask details on the case so much as it is she did it behind his back and lied to him about it. They were doing so well, making so much progress… falling so hard for each other, they were bound to take a step back in their relationship at some point. But this time, it feels like a gigantic leap backward.

Gates sees him, one of the last few still here at the late hour, just staring at the murder board, and dismisses him. With a heavy heart, Castle departs the precinct and heads home. He waves to the squad car parked outside, along with Ryan sitting across the street. Any other time, he would invite him up to the loft, but not now. He takes a long breath, trying to lighten his heart with the memories of the happy times together as he unlocks the door and pushes his way inside, seeing her in the corner of the couch with her legs hugged up against her chest. Her eyes find his immediately, and she flashes him a sad smile. "Hey… babe." She greets him softly and slowly starts to stand up, running her sweaty palms down her thighs. "I uh… I have something in the oven for us."

He flashes her a feigned smile of gratitude, and pulls of his coat, going about hanging it up in the closet.

"Ryan told you?" She asks him, her voice small.

"Accidentally… told me." He corrects her, looking over his shoulder as he goes into the kitchen to lean against the granite countertop.

She lets out a shaky breath as her heart quivers with guilt inside her chest, moving over to him nervously but stopping in front of him about a foot. "Castle…" She starts, but doesn't continue.

"Beckett…" He goes on without her, turning to face her, "why does it feel like we just took a huge step backwards?"

She can feel herself shiver again. She's been shivering ever since Ryan picked her up at her apartment. She's not cold, but she just won't stop shaking. Ever since the need to just be in his arms snaked its way into her veins, she's just been shivering. "I-I'm sorry, Castle. I never should have called him."

"Kate, I'm not mad that you called Ryan." He says, lifting a hand to her briefly. "I just don't know why your first instinct is to lie to me."

Her shoulders quake with another wave of chatter again. "I never should have…" She lets her words fall, not knowing how to begin to explain. Wanting to leave her old self behind in exchange for a new life with him, how it seemed easy as long as her old life _stayed_ behind her. It all swirls in her mind as she looks away from him. She feels so small right now.

Castle lets out a breath and takes a small step forward, putting a hand on her arm, wanting to sooth this bump in the road over, but he feels himself shift when he touches her. He gently takes hold of her arm, feeling her literally shake in his hand. "Kate, you're shivering." He tells her in a loving and concerned voice, taking another step forward and putting both hands on her arms. She looks up to him with glossy eyes and puts her hands down against his chest. "What's wrong?" He asks, softly drawing her in.

She lets out another shaky breath, still shivering even as he holds her like he is. "I'm not supposed to be this weak." She admits. His brow creases with concern. "I just want it to end." She continues, feeling the shiver subside as he runs his thumb over her arms. "I want it all to just stop."

Castle nods, leaning forward and pressing his lips to her forehead. She closes her eyes, feeling her cold blood warm at his simple gesture. She takes another step, drifting fully into him as he weaves his arms around her, choosing to sandwich her arms between them, putting her ear to his chest. The frost that she felt around her heart melts away quickly. The words would spill out right now if she felt it was the right time to say them, and if she thought he would believe her, not just saying them as a means to apologize. But she feels it.

"I don't want to lie to you anymore, Castle."

She hears him let out a breath through his nose, shooting air down her neck while he puts his chin down against the top of her head. She burrows deeper into his embrace when he does. He chooses to deal with this later. If anything else, this clearly took its toll on her. It's not something she wanted to do, maybe she felt that she had to, maybe just a moment of weakness.

As she buries half her face into the warm fabric of his shirt, she just mouths the words, needing to speak them in some way, needing to get it out, needing to tell him even if he doesn't hear it. She does love him.


	13. Chapter 13

_A/N: Before I go any further on new stories, I decided to finish this one up. I'm going to With Lying Eyes next. There's probably two or three chapters left in this story. I do remember the story map and the plot I had seeded. I know it's been a long time, so feel free to reread and review on anything. :)_

* * *

They each eat her homemade casserole meagerly, neither of them interested in sating their appetites tonight. The tone and air between them feels cautious and thick. Her lie, her retreat into her old, albeit comfortable shell of keeping one foot out the door, keeping a way out open for her, is becoming their first hurdle as a couple. She didn't think it would be this hard, this difficult to put something back together.

Before, when she'd fight with her boyfriends, whether it be Josh, Sorenson, or anybody else, she'd accept it and take the distance it caused as a gift. A reason to keep to herself and be safe with her own habits and way of doing things. She never bothered to think of those things as painful because, in the end, a part of her wanted out anyway, and she would've taken that way out if one was offered to her by way of her and her significant other having a fight over something, her fault or not. But not now.

Castle is the first man she wants to keep around not for the sake of having another breath in the room, or another body next to her in bed, or someone to just be there because of some social standard she feels compelled to meet. Just having someone around and be there just to be there, even if they aren't offering her anything. Rick Castle is the first man she wants to feel closer to, the first man she wants to move out of her ways and break her old habits for. She's gotten taste after taste of what it feels like to be close to him over the time they've spent wrapped and tangle up in each other. And it's savory enough to will herself to push them passed this hurdle.

Their silverware clinks, scrapes, and clangs between each other, sitting across from one another at the dining table off the kitchen. Beckett jabs a small remnant of chicken and pops it into the side of her mouth, both feeling her lover's eyes on her and his unwillingness to utter the first words of forgiveness. Once she hears the sound of him letting out a breath of resolving himself, she knows that she'll have to ask for his forgiveness in this, not just wait for it to get unbearable.

"This was good," He says after a long, almost painful forty-five minutes of complete silence between them as they ate.

Kate nods, shifting and tracing absent-minded patterns in the leftover sauce on her plate. "My mom taught me how to make it." She says as the words and memory come to her mind.

"Oh, yeah?" He asks while he wipes the sides of his mouth with his napkin.

And she can tell clearly by his tone that he's not all that interested in her answer, only wants to pretend like things are at least normal between them when they both know they're not. "Yeah, she..." She begins, letting the words fall when she feels a spark of goodhearted yet dishonest and undeserved humor lights her heart, "she always hated cooking but was always really good at it." She can feel a small smile stubborn its way onto her lips.

Kate hears him let out the semblance of a chuckle and sees him nod when she looks at him over the veil of her bangs. The silence quickly and thickly besets them again. She can't lose this start. "So, Ryan's downstairs?" She asks.

She can see the reality of the outside world burden his expression, even passed the shadows on his skin, when the words reach his ears. "Yeah, he's waiting on word from Esposito. He's supposed to have some contact that he's looking into."

Kate smiles and carefully sets the fork back down to her plate so's to not make any additional annoying noise. "Gates' must've been happy about that."

Rick nods, shoves his chair out, and stands. She watches him, her eyes following the move of his body closely. It wasn't too long ago she'd watch him to signal to him she wanted to make love. But now she watches him to just feel close to him. She feels cold. "We're going to get this done, Kate. Don't worry." He says with a heavy smile.

When she sees him pick up his plate, she's quick to lift her hand and lean back in her chair. "I'll get them, baby." She tells him, putting as much sweetness, kindness, and honestly in her tone as she can muster.

Rick freezes, his body hunched over the table and his eyes looking over at her with a tight brow. "You don't have to, Kate. You already made dinner."

Kate nods again, sending up to him a sweet smile and what she hopes are soft eyes, tucking her hands in between her thighs. "I'll take care of it, babe. I probably need to keep myself occupied anyway."

She can see the hesitancy in her boyfriend's eyes, even as he looks away toward the kitchen and accepts her offer silently. "If you're sure?" He says in an upward, questioning tone.

Now, all she does is nod and send him a heavy smile. It takes a few seconds for him to accept, but he does and starts toward the open door to his office, shoving one hand into his pocket and rubbing the back of his neck with the other. Their distance is so palpable to her right now as he rounds the couch and passes the coffee table. She didn't want this with the man she loves. Her eyes follow him through the slats of the bookshelf as he makes his way through his office and into the bedroom until he disappears.

Her eyes then start to flit around the loft. To the window, where she knows Ryan is sitting down in his car, working through case details and waiting for calls on evidence. To the door, where just weeks ago, she stood on the other side of, not caring or wanting anything other than the man answering it. And when she remembers the feeling of his hands pushing her back and closing that door, her heart shutters and her body wracks with a cold shiver.

Kate closes her eyes slowly and stands up, reaching over and taking his plate, then lifting her own and moves slowly and without purpose toward the kitchen. When her eyes reach the other side of the island, looking at where she came to stand next to him, wrapping herself into the plushness of his robe that first morning, pressing up on her toes to steal a kiss from his lips, her heart remembers just how happy he can make her. And she can't let that go.

With her body quickly flooding with purpose, Kate sets down the plates on the island counter and spins, marching her way through the living room and through his office to his bedroom, following his path he took just moments ago. The bedroom is empty when she arrives at the doorway, but her ears can hear the shower running, then her eyes can see the bathroom light on once she looks for it. Her spine sends another involuntary shiver through quaking through her skin, feeling her nerves jitter again with a cold feeling.

Not wanting to waste another minute, she steps toward the bathroom, peeling away the hem of her shirt as she does, letting it fall to the floor at the threshold of the bathroom, then pushes her jeans down her legs, stepping out of them once she's turning to see his broad, defined, foggy figure through the misted glass of the shower. She watches his shadow closely as she reaches up and tugs on the door. Rick turns, startled and wide-eyed. Seeing he's stunned, his eyes still shift downward and take her starkly naked form in.

"Beckett, what-" He starts but doesn't finish before she's closing the door to the shower behind her.

She doesn't wait and doesn't ask for his approval, just takes the closest hand she can reach and moves it toward her, planting it on her side. Even with the state of their relationship, she feels his fingers tug her into him, but stop short and slide down her quickly wetting skin. Her eyes find his through the stream of the hot water. "I want us to fix this, Rick."

His eyes soften slightly when he looks away, his softly defined form deflating its tenseness for a moment. "Beckett, I just need-"

"Rick, if I just wanted another warm body, I wouldn't be here." She says, honesty making her surge herself over to him. She steps up closer to him, stepping more into the stream as her skin starts to flush with the heat from the water. She puts her hands on his chest and feels his hands slowly start to drift around her back. "I don't want us to be that relationship, okay?"

She can see a vulnerability and want start to shimmer in his blue eyes.

"I've never been with anyone where I wanted them back after one of us screws up. And now, I screwed up and I want you back."

"Kate, it's not like that." He says with a shake of his head, the strands of his wet hair dangling in front of his face.

"Then what is it like, Rick?" She asks, forcefully making the point that she wants this fixed, pressing herself flush against him. His eyes close and his jaw sets firm when his back hits the tile of the shower wall. Unreserved, she reaches up and brushes his wet hair back with her hand, pushing the wet strands out of his forehead, then moves to cup his jaw.

His eyes open, flooded with hurt as they look down at her, but his arms stay wrapped around her. "You came to me and said that you didn't care. That you only wanted me. So that's what I gave you." He starts, his eyes glistening with hurt, all boiling up to the surface in a flash. "I even- whisked you away to a romantic getaway in the Hampton's. It was everything I'd wished for and dreamed of, Kate. You said you only wanted me and I gave it to you. But you called Ryan while we were there." The hurt and betrayal are starting to show in his voice with a small twinge. "And what's worse, you asked him to lie to me about it."

"Rick," She starts, shaking her head in dismissal. "I'm _sorry_ I called Ryan."

"Kate," He interrupts her apology, letting his head fall back against the tile as a troubled and frustrated smile flashes across his features, "I'm not mad that you called Ryan. I can't be angry that you want justice for your mother _or_ for yourself. I just don't know why your first instinct is to lie to me."

Kate nods stiffly, letting her hands revel in the feeling of his warm skin and wet muscles on his shoulders and arms, with her arms coming to rest around his neck. "Now you know why I asked you to wait for me, Rick."

His hurt and vulnerable eyes shift briefly into confusion.

"When I came to you that night, I had _every_ intention of walking away from that life and never looking back. I threw myself into this relationship with you without any regrets and that hasn't changed. But," She says with her eyes drifting away from him, "promises are easy to keep when you're not tested on them. That case has been haunting me my entire adult life, Rick. I called Ryan as a way to just make sure that I could walk away without any consequences. And with everyone else I've been with, I would lie when I wanted to distance myself or when I wanted to give myself a reason to leave."

Her words clearly cut a swath through his heart, feeling his arms loosen from around her midsection.

"But that's why I asked you to wait for me, Rick." That regains his eyes, stopping his arms from releasing her. "Because in the relationship I want, I don't want a reason to leave and I don't want distance. And don't you _dare_ say that I didn't mean what I said that night. I meant every word, Castle. I only want you."

Rick lets out a soft breath and his eyes soften towards her. He seems more open now, the distance between them coming to a close.

"Turning over a new leaf is hard, Castle. I won't say that I won't fall into old habits again. I'm sorry I lied to you and it would be easy for me to promise I won't do it again, but something tells me that it would only make it hurt more when I do. So... I guess the only real promise I can make is that I won't ever stop wanting you. _Whoa!"_

She yelps as she's lifted and spun, her back hitting against the warm, slick tile of the shower wall, his hands grasping her thighs and tugging her legs around his waist and his lips demandingly pressing against hers. She's released with a spinning head, her body crawling with want and excitement at the feeling of his body against hers, his fingers digging into the back of her thighs, his breath tangling with hers. "You promise?" He asks, cheekily.

She smiles and runs her hands down the sides of his face, slicking back his wet hair again before greedily roving over his tense muscles. "Promise."

His lips kiss her forcefully again, sending them both into a hot fever of passion. It lasts only a few seconds before he's pulling back again. "I-I'm sorry, did you still want to shower?"

She chuckles and rolls her eyes, hooking her ankles together behind him. "You don't think I came in here just to conserve water, did you? We just had our first fight." She says on a shrug.

He blinks once, gathering his thoughts. "We did?"

"Yes, and now," she continues with her eyes darting down to his lips, her hands cupping his jaw before she slowly kissing him in a broad movement of her lips, "we have to make up."

* * *

He sees the door to the bar open out of the corner of his eye. His friend pauses once he's a step inside, looks in his direction, then moves across the bar, over to him at the end. He sits down adjacent from him and lifts his finger to the bartender, pointing at him, then to the counter in front of him. The bartender nods over the quiet hum of the slow night and puts a coaster down in front of his friend.

"You have it?"

He waits until the bartender puts the bottle in front of him, then gives him a nod as he walks away to the other end of the bar to attend to other patrons. "In the dumpster out back." He says under his breath, lifting the bottle to his lips.

He just nods and lowers the bill of his hat down.

"They know about Ballard. They're getting close." He says after a long moment of silence. He pushes out a small sigh out through his nostrils and knocks his fingers against his own bottle. "Whatever you have planned, you better do it quickly."

"I will." He says in a rough voice.

"Why did you need that thing I got you anyway? You could've gotten another one a lot safer. Why did you need this one?" He asks.

"I'm sending a message." He says, giving his friend an eye from under the bill of his dark green hat. "For all of us."

His friend nods and takes another swig from his beer. "They brought Castle in on it this afternoon. And I hear Esposito got something from a few leads."

"And Kate Beckett?"

"The captain put a detail on her. They're staying at Castle's place." There's a small lift of tension from his shoulders and he takes a brief pause before looking back down to the counter. "It's only a matter of time before they pick up your trail."

Greg takes the last flat swig of his beer and sets the bottle down on the coaster, puts a ten down beside it and slides from his stool. "After tonight, you won't hear from me again."

Without another word, he moves out of the bar and into the night.


	14. Chapter 14

_A/N: Rereading the reviews, only one person hinted as to what was going on case-wise. The end of the chapter is the reveal. Next chapter is the wrap up. Probably calling it finished after the next chapter. Hope you enjoy it. Let me know. :)_

* * *

Her hand takes the sheets with her when she moves to entwine their fingers together and her lips move to kiss him again as if being unable to breathe otherwise. She presses him back in between the space of the pillows when she kisses him, tightening herself around him when he gives her another thrust upward. She yelps from her throat at the quick stab of pleasure rocking her center, the sound being captured by his mouth.

His unoccupied hand, after pulling at the leg framing his hips, moves to her exposed breast. She quickly covers it with her own, increasing the already tight pressure he's applying against it. Her throat lets loose another deep, hearty moan, that finally breaks fully when his mouth is granted rebellious territory and ventures wantingly to the column of her neck. Her body vibrating with heat as she grinds and rocks against him, she feels her lips at his ear, "Don't stop."

His hand weaves into her still damp hair, cranes her neck and his lips and teeth graze against her windpipe in a long, smooth motion. She lets the hand that she's holding go out of weakness in her limbs and feels his palm slide jealously up her thigh, ending up grasping the curve of her ass and pressing her hips down forcefully against him. Her body shakes with another violent stab of euphoria. Her head swims at everything he's doing to her.

"Oh, Rick," She moans into his ear.

Her lover moans at the sound of her plea, moving his hand up the dip of her spine and his hips pressing him and turning them over, his opposite hand grasping her knee and pressing it outward while he delves as deep as he can into her tight, soaked folds and his lips a spot below her earlobe and latch on. Her entire body tightens and her throat stops at the feeling of holding everything back as he continues to press into her.

" _Oh,_ god..." She practically strains to scream. Her arms fly haphazardly around his neck and her muscles release her briefly, feeling he's relented. "I... _hate_ it- when you do that."

She can feel his smile against her ear and hear his laughing breath while his hand on her knee slides up her leg. "Why?" He whispers to her.

Kate lets out another moan and lazily turns him over again, coming to straddle him as she was a moment ago. She looks down at him, her hands planted against his chest with her fingers wantingly digging into his muscles. "Because you're too damn good at it."

His teeth flash up at her as he smiles and quickly leans up. Her arms weave themselves around his shoulders, then around his neck when his nose brushes against hers. She stops short of kissing him, instead decides to grind against him and tighten herself around him while his strong arms go around her, lovingly hugging her body flush against him. The desperate passionate want, turned bantering light-hearted sex, quickly floods into slow, emotional love-making.

She can feel her heart pound at the feeling of being hugged against him by his arms, being wrapped and tangled up in his sheets and in each other. She brushes her lips against his before pulling back and looking at the sparkle of his eye through the darkness of his bedroom. He's speaking to her in a low hum when her fingers are weaving themselves through his already disheveled hair. "This is the best make-up sex I've ever had."

A short belt of laughter shines a smile across her face and she smoothes over his uneven hairline. "We have been making love nearly every day... for almost three weeks." She says, her hips unable to stop from moving against him, seeming to get even harder with every motion she manages to struggle out. "Why does it seem to only get better?"

He breathes a short laugh, smiling while pulling her down to kiss him again. Her lips softly rest against his, feathering across them as he speaks, "I have an idea, but I don't wanna say."

Her lips kiss him fully as her hands pulls him in by his jaw. "Good," She moans into his mouth, breaking her sentence with another kiss, "because I don't want you to stop kissing me."

Rick doesn't waste any time in kissing her with an emotional passion that lights both of them into a quick frenzy of grasping, cupping, pulling, tugging, and clawing. Kate makes sure her lips never leave his, even as she lets him turn them back over and delve full hilt into her, pulling at the back of her knees to tighten her legs around his waist, not bothering to support his weight off of her. She enjoys it as her body explodes under his full, solid weight. Her nails dig violently into his shoulder blades, feeling him spill and pulsate into her while her body floods in a riptide of intense ecstasy and unbundling nerves.

With both of the lovers still vibrating with aftershocks, sweet leftovers of their intense lovemaking, he eventually finds the strength to push himself up and roll off to the side, landing heavily enough to make the bed jump. Both slicked in a layer of salty sweat and panting, Kate pushes her hand into her damp hair, her head still spinning. "That was incredible."

"We should fight more often." He says in response, his voice low and husky.

She laughs weakly and rolls herself over, tucking herself neatly into his side, putting herself into the cove made especially for her. His arm quickly finds its way where it belongs, holding her shoulders with his fingers softly petting the skin on her arm. As her leg drapes over his, she looks up to his features through the darkened bedroom. She's had those words on her tongue for too long. Now, they're back in the city, back home, and it's just them. "Rick," She says, putting a hand on his ribs.

"Mmm?" He moans.

Her eyes flit away and look across the expanse of his chest. "Did you ever doubt it?"

She can hear the covers on the pillow shuffle before she can feel his eyes on her. She moves her head against his chest until she's meeting his eye. "Doubt what?"

Kate soothes over his light patch of chest hair and hardens the words in her mind. "That you loved me."

"Never for a second." His response comes right as she's finished speaking, quickly enough to where he almost cut her off. She meets his eyes again, challenging him or asking for reassurance and he continues. "I mean," He continues and slightly shrugs his shoulders, putting his head back down to the pillow, "when I heard you say you remembered, sure. There was a time when I didn't want to love you, but that doesn't mean I ever stopped. That's probably why it was so heartbreaking, hearing that you..." He trails off, probably seeing no point in elaborating.

She nods, feeling her eyes burn at what she's put him through, or what he's put himself through on account of his feelings for her.

"But doubt? No, not even for a moment." There's a silence that falls between them, and it's here that her heart is aching so much at the need to tell him. "Why?" He asks.

She reaches up, cups his cheek and pushes herself up to him enough to kiss him sweetly on his soft, sweet tasting lips. She pulls back and pets his cheekbone with her thumb, smiling down to him. "I'm in love with you."

There's the hint of a smile that looks like it wants to bloom across his face, his eyes already showing its sparkle in his pupils. She feels his arms go around her fully as she lays nearly on top of him. "Yo-you're not saying that just because we just had- phenomenal make-up sex, are you?" He asks, his voice tightly wound with caution.

Her resolve in telling him more, in laying her heart out for him, is only strengthened by his question. She feels her body press itself against his more forcefully and she leans down, planting a quick kiss on the sides of his lips. She leans back and shakes her head, "No." She says, feeling her heart surge.

His eyes hold a look of disbelief, but overwhelmed stun, while his lips shine into a full smile. His mouth moves, but he seems to choke on his words. "I-I... wu... uhm..." He stutters.

She pets her fingers down his cheek again, whispering to him in a soft, caring voice. "What?"

"I'm just trying to think of something memorable to say to that, is all." Smiling down at him, her eyes flick between his lips and his eyes. "I can't come up with anything."

Her brow raises and she moves to almost fully drape herself over him. "How about 'I love you, too'."

His shoulders shrug, "I'm a writer, that's boring." She pushes out a small sigh, smiling softly as she waits for him to come up with something. "I'm madly in love with you, Kate." He finally says, his voice seeping with honesty. She feels her heart explode at his words, reaching up and cupping his jaw again. "And no matter what happens with the case, wherever it takes us, that won't change."

She briefly looks away, a twinge in her spine of fear and anxiousness at the mention of the monster lurking in the shadows that is her case. And he can clearly sense it by the way his hand fanned out against her back. After a moment, she looks back up to him. "Castle, I thought I couldn't have you and get away with it until I closed that case. And now that I have you, I don't want to go back, okay?"

He quickly nods silently in response.

"I've lost myself to that rabbit hole before, and..." she begins, her heart aching as the words form in her mind. It hurts pouring her heart out and being this honest. "And you deserve someone who's devoted to you instead of a ghost chase. I walked away to be with you because I'm in love with you and that's the way I need it to stay."

Rick nods, moves his eyes away as he gathers his thoughts, then leans up to kiss her forehead after a moment of reflection. "If this is you saying in a matter of minced words that you want me to stop helping Ryan than I will, no questions asked. But if it isn't, then I'd like to see it through."

"Rick," She pleads desperately.

" _I've_ lost you to that rabbit hole too, Kate. I'm not going to let it happen again. But Ryan's still outside on protective detail. We can walk away and close the door behind us, but that doesn't mean it won't ever come knocking."

She shakes her head sadly, her eyes burning with tears that may have already leaked out onto her cheek. "Rick, I just want to be able to be with you and love you. I just want it to be over. I want it to stop." She says, her voice thick and soiled with emotion.

"I know, I know, come here." He beckons her, pulling her down to him and wrapping both his arms around her. She quickly buries her face in the crock of his neck and tugs at him to hold her tighter, letting herself revel in just how safe she feels wrapped up in his arms. He rubs her back soothingly, quickly casting away her wrenched heart. "You're the strongest person I've ever met, Kate."

"I don't feel strong right now, Rick." She says in a muffled voice against his skin.

He soothes over her back again and continues. "Well, at least you're still tall."

She's quickly overtaken by a smile and belts out an emotional laugh, still hiding herself in the crock of his neck, amused at his stupidly timed jokes. She moves her head and slithers herself down, laying her head down against his chest and wraps her arms around him. "The only part I want out of this is you, Castle. I just want you."

Rick lets out a breath as he pulls her tighter into his side for the night.

* * *

The sun rose over the city some time ago. An hour ago, easily. He had a view of it from this apartment. He paces his way into the living area and pulls out the phone from his pocket. 9:15.

It's time.

He walks slowly over to the table and stops, looking down at the framed picture that sits down on the counter, his heart growing cold. He takes it in his hand and brings it closer. "I'm sorry, Lisa." He says to the photo, an in love couple smiling back at him. There was a time where that was him. He sets the frame back down, next to the others, and looks down to the table, where the rifle is already laid out.

He takes his coat off and lets it slide to the floor of the empty apartment, leaving him in just a black t-shirt, an old pair of blue jeans, and an untended beard. No turning back now. He has a name and a job to do.

He lays himself down across the length of the table and buries the butt of the rifle into his shoulder and puts the scope to his eye. Through the scope, he can see into his office on the twentieth floor of the building, some distance away. He hardens himself at the sight of the man, pacing back and forth in his office, and puts the phone down on the table next to him on speaker, hitting the redial button.

Through the scope, he can see the man jump and quickly reach down to his desk and grab the phone. "Ballard, where the hell have you been? What's going on?" He spits into the receiver.

"Senator William Bracken." He says in a strong voice.

Through the scope, he sees him stop dead in the middle of his office. "Who is this?"

"My name is 2nd Lieutenant Greg Derricks of the 75th Rangers." The man through the scope doesn't move, he's frozen in place. "One year ago, you killed the woman I love, Lisa Baxter."

Bracken is silent, just continues pacing in front of his desk with the receiver to his ear.

"She was investigating a lead on the heroin trade leading back to New York. She was stabbed and left to the rats in an alley in Washington Heights."

"Lieutenant..." Bracken finally begins, "I'm sorry for your loss, but-"

"Save me the speeches, Senator." Greg says calmly.

"Then what do you want?" Bracken spits into the phone.

Greg narrows his eye and lines up the scope as Bracken moves around his office. "Senator, you and I both took oaths. I swore to protect and defend the American people against threats both foreign and domestic." He lines up the shot and puts his finger inside the trigger well of the rifle. "I consider this nothing less than my patriotic duty."

One last breath, and Greg squeezes the trigger.


	15. Chapter 15

_A/N: Most of this chapter is case work, tyingof some of the loose ends. The rest will be wrapped up in what will be the last chapter of this story. I didn't expect to throw you guys for such a twist. I thought I seeded the hell out of it. Well, if that threw you, the ending of this chapter might leave you scratching your head._

* * *

Kate's head lifts off the plush, luxurious pillow late the next morning. Her slightly crusty eyes look out the window to see a bright, dark yellow morning light shine through the blinds. Her sex-addled, sated body feels just as rested as it did when she would wake up back in the Hampton's with her boyfriend. But unlike this morning, she would wake up tangled up with him, his arms safely secured around her from behind. When she looks across the dunes of the comforter, she's in his bed alone.

She presses her hand down to the sheets to get a line of sight to the clock and sees that it's just passed 8:30.

Letting out a breath, she tosses the covers off, groaning to her not having to crawl out of the cove of his warm body, and grabs her thin robe off the armchair on the way to the bathroom, tossing it tiredly over her shoulders. When she's on her way out, it isn't until she's at the door to his office that she hears a faint voice drift through the slates of the bookshelf. She immediately recognizes it as Ryan. Then another voice muffles through the loft, sounding like Castle.

Her brain quickly putting the pieces together that Ryan must have come up sometime this morning from the detail Gates put him on, she sinches her robe tighter around herself, hiding the thin, faded pink t-shirt she threw on before drifting off to sleep, and pads her way through his office. At the door to the living room, she sees the coffee table littered with papers and case files, with Rick's laptop open in front of Ryan, and multiple evidence boxes open and set on the floor of the living room. Rick is sitting in a chair with his back to his office, while Ryan is sitting in a chair adjacent to him, facing the front door.

"You've gone through Ballard's financials though, right?" She hears Rick ask Ryan.

"Yeah, nothing seemed to jump out that he was crooked. No payments, no cashed checks, nothing." Ryan answers, flipping another paper over in the case file he has open in front of him. "Why?"

"Because his expenses aren't matching up with his earnings." That gains Ryan's attention as he leans over closer to her lover and former partner to see what he's looking at. "He's spending way too much to be on a beat cop's salary."

Kate feels a heavy hit of nostalgia warm and lightens her chest at the sight of her partner hard at work on a case, digging through facts and evidence to get to the truth. She shakes her head to herself, forcing herself not to get caught up in the good feeling it brings, knowing the bad is lurking around the corner. She looks past them and into the kitchen, where she sees Esposito coming out with a small coffee cup in his hand.

"I'm telling you, if these guys say that Ballard's dirty, he's dirty." Espo says, and Kate takes that as her cue to start toward the chair Rick is sitting in.

"When did you say Ballard joined the Twelfth?" Rick asks, his eyes still focused down on the file he's studying.

It's then that Kate puts her hands on his shoulders and leans down, putting one hand on his head. "Morning, baby." She sweetly says in a hushed voice just before kissing his hair, petting his hair with her thumb.

"Hey," He says in response, sounding surprised by her gesture.

"Hey, Beckett." Ryan says, his voice seeping with feigned casualness, cautioning whether they're still on good terms.

"Hey," She says, stepping away from Rick and lifting a hand to Ryan as she moves toward the kitchen. "I thought you were on detail outside, Ryan."

"Oh, I have LT taking shift while we try and figure out what the hell is going on. I managed to get access to the precinct's database, so we're doing what we can." He answers, motioning toward Rick with his case file.

Kate is moving toward the kitchen again, seeing Esposito lift his cup to her in a silent greeting. Hearing papers shift and shuffle, she moves toward the cupboard and takes a mug for herself, pouring what is left of the coffee in the pot, then going to the creamer and sugar. "Guys, look at this." Rick says, catching the boys' attention.

Ryan and Esposito look over to Castle, with Esposito sitting on one end of the couch.

"Ballard was transferred to the Twelfth precinct from Washington Heights in the summer of last year." Rick explains.

"Wait, as in..." Ryan starts, looking between Castle and Espo, "after Montgomery, last summer?"

"As in pretty much a week after." Castle answers from the file.

"Who authorized the transfer?" Espo asks.

Castle flips over a few papers in the file and it's a moment before he answers. "His request was put in the day after Montgomery was killed, and Gates signed off on it whenever she took over. I guess they needed all the help they could get with both their captain and lead detective out. They probably didn't ask any questions."

Kate's gut tells her something, but she keeps it quiet as she stirs the creamer and sugar into her coffee with a teaspoon.

"You don't think he could have been a mole, do you?" Ryan asks Esposito.

"No, it makes sense." Castle starts. _After Montgomery's death, they needed someone to make sure the case wasn't being pursued,_ she thinks to herself as she takes the first sip. "Once Montgomery's dead, they needed someone to tell them if the case was being investigated or not." Castle explains.

She can't help but smile to herself, hearing him explain her inner thoughts.

"So," Ryan starts, "this guy, Derricks... he goes after Maddox, who was going after the file Montgomery had. Then he goes after Ballard, the informant. From the sound of it, they're cleaning house." He says, a fear dripping from his voice.

Kate doesn't want to listen, but her eyes are looking toward Rick, who's looking the same way he does when he's putting the story together in his head, when he can't figure out what the missing piece is, he just knows that there is one. After a tense moment of silence in the loft, Rick reaches over to another case file. "What do we know about this Greg Derricks guy?"

Esposito sighs and leans back on the couch. "Model soldier. Dozens of commendations, two silver stars, three bronze. He hasn't been seen since he went AWOL last year when his supposed girlfriend gets killed here in New York. I asked around the company a bit more, and everyone thinks that he wandered off into the desert and committed suicide after he got the news and they just never found the body."

"What did they say about her murder?" Ryan asks Espo.

But it's Castle who answers, leaning back and looking first at Ryan with a hard stare, then looking into the kitchen to Kate. "Ruled it 'gang violence'. They wrote it off."

Kate's gut churns at the sound of that. There's an all too familiar grip coming over her, a tenseness in her muscles and straighten in her spine, a will forcing its way in that fills her with an odd sense of being comfortable. She keeps it to herself and takes another sip of her coffee.

Ryan sighs, knits his brow together, and leans forward, starting to clack away at the keyboard of Castle's laptop. "What is it?" Castle asks him.

"Whenever Esposito told me the other day that snapping a neck is a lot harder than it looks like on TV, I got a hunch and went looking through some other cases."

"What'd you find?"

"I went looking for any other victims that came up with a snapped neck, and only found one case. A month ago, twenty-seven-year-old gang banger was found in an abandoned apartment building in the Heights, strapped to a table in the basement with his neck snapped. It was ruled as gang violence and written off, but it seems like it goes a long way for gang violence." Ryan turns the laptop around to let Castle read the file he brought up.

And after a moment of what she can tell is speed reading, Castle is speaking. "He was found with his head hanging off the edge, his neck snapped, he was bound to the table with duct tape, and it says here... that his sinuses were filled with water, but he didn't drown."

Kate's brain clicks the pieces into place, but she stays quiet, sipping her coffee, her gut still clenching. "That doesn't really make any sense." Ryan says.

Kate looks up to Castle, waiting for him to get it. If anyone will get it, it's him. He has a mind for off-the-wall things. "If his neck was snapped, why bother strapping him down? And why note that his sinuses were filled with water?" Esposito asks, spit-balling out loud.

"He was waterboarded." She says finally. All eyes shoot in her direction, and she takes a pause, setting her cup down and looks to Rick. "He was being interrogated and when they got what they needed, they killed him by snapping his neck."

"And..." Rick starts, hesitant to ask her to continue, "how does that help us?"

Kate lifts her cup up in front of her then pushes it in Esposito's direction. "Don't you know how to waterboard, Espo?"

Espo's eyes grow wide for a second before he turns back to Ryan and Castle. "It was Derricks. Textbook Special Forces training. Somehow, this guy was connected to all this."

"Yeah, but how?" Ryan asks. "And what about his girlfriend? Why is she dead? There's nothing in here that tells us why she was in the Heights, to begin with. We have nothing to connect any of this, and some rogue Army Ranger out there waterboarding people and snapping their necks." Ryan exclaims, frustrated.

Kate's gut churns again, that same tense feeling coming back. She's not supposed to feel like this. It's not supposed to be like this. It was supposed to be over. The questions were supposed to be gone. She walked away to be with the man she loves, but it just won't go away. Her heart quivers heavily inside her chest as she takes the last sip of her coffee and sets her mug down on the counter of the island. The boys seem to disperse, having made little progress in the way of connecting any of this. Kate's eyes are down on the granite countertop as Ryan and Espo meander into Castle's office, while Castle quickly makes his way into the kitchen, slowing down his pace when he's rounding the island.

"Hey," He starts softly, coming up next to her and reaching for her, sliding his hand over the small of her back.

She subconsciously drifts into his touch but turns to him with an almost desperate blankness in her expression. "You couldn't have gone to the precinct to do this?"

Rick takes another step closer to her, putting his arm around her, trying to pull her into him but failing. "With all that's going on, I didn't want you to be here all by yourself. That's all."

She nods slightly and looks back down to the counter, not fully accepting his physical invitation of loving touches.

"We can still pack up and head to the precinct, if that's what you want. I just didn't want you to think I was too eager to get out of here when you woke up." He tries for a joke, that clearly falls flat. After she lets out a small breath while spinning her mug around in her finger against the counter, he tries again. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"No," She tells him, sending him a sad smile as she turns herself into him. "I want it to be over. All of it. I want it all to be over so I can finally enjoy being with the man I love and not feel like this." She says honestly, with tears starting to burn her eyes.

"Like what?" He asks, his voice seeping with concern as he pulls her into him with both hands on her sides.

"Like I have to brace myself against the next bullet coming my way. Like I have to shut everything and everyone out, because that's what it's going to take to get through it. I don't want to feel like that anymore, Castle." She confesses to him, hot tears stinging her eyes and blurring her vision of him. She blinks them away as best she can before continuing. "I want it... to _stop_."

"Guys," Ryan calls from the office, his voice sounding all too low and serious. Rick and Kate both look in his direction, not bothering to separate from each other, "you've got to see this."

Rick and Kate both quickly maneuver around the island, through the living room, and into Rick's office, where Esposito is standing in front of the TV with a straightened brow, a serious expression etched onto his face.

" _Once again, we are bringing you live, breaking coverage of the assassination of Senator William Bracken, who was shot at just after 9:15 this morning. We are receiving reports that it was a sniper and that Senator Bracken is being declared dead at the scene. We have-"_

Ryan's phone cuts them off and his hand shoots to answer it. "Yeah, Ryan." He says already moving out into the living room. "No, I just heard." He says from the living room. "Right, I'm on my way." He says and hurries back into the office, where Castle, Beckett, and Esposito are all waiting for what was said on the other line. Ryan jumps back through the door, "Just got word that they know where the sniper took the shot from. SWAT's hitting it now, Captain Gates wants the Twelfth on the scene. Let's go."

Espo rushes past Castle and Beckett, jogging his way through the loft, and toward the door. But Castle stops short of following, looking down at her, still clad in her robe and pajamas. "We can stay behind, if you want, Kate."

Kate gathers her thoughts back to herself and raises her hand. "No, you go ahead, babe. I'll get LT and catch up."

Rick lets out a breath and smiles, putting a soothing hand on her arm. "It's going to be okay, Kate." All she can do is nod while he presses a quick kiss to her forehead. "I love you."

She smiles, her mind still not with her, even as she raises her hand to wave at him. "I love you, too."

* * *

There's an intense slew of buzzing patrol cars, blacked out fed vans and SUVs, with every pedestrian on the streets standing in front of the nearest storefront of radio listening to the news. Kate is dressed in a pair of jeans and a black leather jacket, sitting in the passenger seat of LT's patrol car, simply waiting as she has been ever since they pulled up to this incredibly hectic scene.

Kate waits, watching the front door of the apartment building in midtown and the two patrolmen standing guarding the front door. After a few more moments, she sees one of them pull his radio up to his ear, then watches as he calls back over it, then points his finger in the direction of LT's patrol car and her. She sees LT nod and pulls the door open, waving for her to follow. Mindlessly, she complies and jumps out of the car, dodging police cars and evidence vans, a stampede of the press being kept behind the barricade some distance away.

"They're asking for you, Detec... I-I mean, Beckett." The uniform corrects himself.

Her heartbeat frozen, her emotions gone, she simply nods and steps into the apartment building, following the patrolmen's signals, making her way up to the twenty-second floor of the building, down the hall where she sees Castle standing at an open door halfway down the hall, looking like he's just seen a ghost. Her stomach churns again at the sight of him, but her legs carry her down the hall. She makes it to the door but pauses when Castle's scared eyes meet hers. He looks terrified.

After a moment, she turns and looks into the empty apartment, seeing Ryan pacing quickly back and forth, while Esposito is being kept back in the hall by a uniform officer. This is where the shot was made from.

She takes a slow, shaky step inside, but she stops when her eyes fall on the table laid out in front of the open window. Her blood runs icy cold at the sight of that tan, camouflaged sniper rifle sitting on the table. "That's the..." She starts.

"That's the rifle that shot you." Castle's voice says from behind her.

"I'm on the phone with evidence trying to figure out who signed it out now." Ryan hurries as he paces back and forth.

"What's that?" Kate asks, motioning lazily toward the counter next to the table, where she sees a number of frames, sitting facing toward the rifle.

She feels Castle's hand on the small of her back, guiding her forward toward the counter. Laid out in front of the table are five different picture frames. The first is of Montgomery, the next is of her mother, then of herself, followed by a picture of a younger looking black girl, with the last being of a couple, a smiling, short-haired blonde and a man in a soldier's uniform, hugging each other. "A memorial?" She says in a hazy voice.

"We think so," Castle says. "Kate," He tries for her attention but doesn't get it. All she does is stare blankly at the pictures laid out. Of her mother, of her former captain and mentor, of herself. All the victims of this case, all the lives this case has claimed. "I think we were looking at this the wrong way."

"Who's that?" She asks, pointing at the picture second to last, a graduation picture of a black girl, whom none of them recognize.

"Guys," Ryan says in a small voice. They all turn to look as LT steps in behind them. "The person who signed out the rifle from evidence... it was LT."

Kate's heart shutters in her chest, her body still feeling cold and numb as she turns, the frame of the unidentified victim in her hand, now facing a stone-faced LT, who's looking directly at Kate. They all turn to him, but LT remains staring directly at Kate.

And after a tense moment, he speaks. "You think you're the only person who's lost someone to this?"


	16. Chapter 16

_A/N: Hope everything is tied up nice enough for everyone waiting for this story to finish. I'm going to get started again on With Lying Eyes once I get the story map fixed a bit more. Let me know if the ending is satisfying enough for you. :)_

* * *

Outside the observation room, it's an angry beehive. Ringing phones, shouting orders, and yelled replies. Every cop from every floor is up and active with the news of what happened.

But the one active detective, the one suspended, the one former, the one writer, and the captain are standing in observation all deathly quiet. Kate is in the center, standing with her arms crossed, feeling and trying to concentrate on her partner's presence by her side. He's standing closer to her than he usually did when they were letting a suspect stew. She can feel his stomach brush against her elbow as he fights the swaying of his body. She wishes he'd forget where they are and put his arms around her. Or at the very least, move to where she can put her head down onto his shoulder, her own personal nesting ground when they'd be sitting on the couch together.

But he's always maintained a professional attitude when it came to her personal space. At least when he knew the times were so he'd get in more trouble for invading it. There was a time not just a few weeks ago when any physical contact between them was forbidden. But she needs him right now.

The world outside of them, the case she left behind is back. The details need put in place, the dots need connected, and it seems that the only person that can is her. As always.

"So, who was she?" Castle is the first to break the silence in the room, all of them looking at LT. Their friend.

Ryan nods his head toward the window and tightens his crossed arms. "His little sister. All they had was their mom, growing up. She died from cancer when LT was still in high school. She got involved in a bad crowd but LT joined the force. Once he put on the shield, he got her back on the straight. She managed to graduate with straight A's and get into college on full scholarship. She was working on being a clinical therapist, specifically with drug users."

Kate can feel her heartache. Her hand reaches up and clutches the ring she slipped around her neck, grasping it tightly through the fabric of her thin t-shirt. "What happened?" She asks. She swallows the emotion that shined in her voice.

Esposito sighs heavily. "She was killed in a robbery gone wrong last summer out in Queens."

It's then that Castle finally speaks up. "Why didn't he tell us any of this?" He asks with a tight, high-pitched desperation squeaking his voice. He looks over to his friends, who are all looking incredibly mournful at LT. All except for Kate, who's looking like she always does when she's faced with situations like this, like she needs help, but is too prideful to outright ask for it, so she grits her teeth and hopes for the best.

Ryan can just shake his head and look toward the ground, while Espo answers. "LT's always been a private person. And last summer, it..." He trails off, "it was hard for all of us. He probably didn't say anything with everyone trying to catch Beckett's shooter."

"But he still could have come to us. We're his friends, it-"

"It's not that simple, Castle." Kate finally finds her voice again. She finds Rick's eyes, looking at him with a hollow, almost empty stare. She runs her thumb over the stone on her mother's ring under her shirt before looking away from him.

"Whatever the reason," Gates begins, "I have every single government agency breathing down my neck for answers and only a few minutes before they show up to take over the investigation. I'm going in there." She says before spinning on her heel.

"He won't talk to you, Sir." Kate says, not looking away from LT.

Gates stops dead in her tracks near the door. "Excuse me?"

Kate remains unwavering as she turns to look over her shoulder to her former boss. "Sir, you don't have his trust."

"I don't _need_ his trust, Beckett. I need answers." Gates says angrily, planting her hands on her hips.

"Captain, forgive the insubordination," Kate says calmly, her gaze half-lidded as she takes a step toward Gates, "but there's only one person in this precinct who understands what he went through."

Gates is quick to understand what she's saying and is even quicker to shake her head and wave her hand in dismissal. "Out of the question, Beckett."

With that, Kate's last tendon of patience snaps. "Sir, he had a picture of my _mother_ in that apartment!" She says sternly. "He had a picture of me. And if the pieces fit together like I think they do, then I need to go in there."

Gates attempts to stare her former detective down, but in the end, loses and submits with a deep sigh and a cross of her arms. "You have five minutes, Beckett." She says and marches past her and back in between Ryan and Castle.

Kate turns back around to look at him, receiving a small, reassuring smile. Her lips react as they always do to him, with a perk of the corners of her mouth and a softening of her eyes. She gives herself a small nod and moves out of observation and pushes the door open to interrogation. LT doesn't flinch when the door opens and remains stoic when she closes the door. His eyes remain down on his lap. Kate takes one last breath before stepping up to the table.

Instead of sitting down, she reaches for the middle of the table. She takes hold of the mics in one hand and pulls out the plugs from each one with the other. She knows Castle is having to talk Gates into giving her a chance right about now.

Kate pulls out the chair across from LT and sits down, clasping her hands in front of her. She looks over her friend for a moment, seeing a familiar looking sadness in his eyes. "It was him, wasn't it?"

LT stays quiet.

"The senator that was killed this morning. He was the person behind it all."

LT's face twitches for a moment, but he still doesn't turn to look at her. "Seems like."

"You didn't know?" She asks quickly.

"Didn't ask."

Kate sighs very heavily, letting her eyes drift shut. Somehow... she doesn't feel any better knowing. "Why didn't you tell us, LT? About your sister... we could've helped."

It's another long moment before he answers. "It happened right after your shooting. Castle and the boys needed as much help as they could get. By the time I started seeing the pattern, you guy's had stopped investigating it. I'd heard you put it behind you. Didn't want you reopening old wounds on my account."

Kate's heart stabs with a sharp pang of heartache. If he'd just asked... "How was your sister involved with this?"

"She was helping drug addicts down in the Heights. After a while, she wanted to help solve the problem instead of just cleaning up the mess. She was safe for a while... until the house cleaning."

"Housecleaning, what... what do you mean?"

LT sniffles through his emotion, "You weren't the only one they went after. After they got you, they went after the other's who were causing them trouble. Monica was one of them."

"And..." She starts. "Derricks, what... how'd you get involved with him?"

LT shakes his head, still not meeting Kate's eye. "He found me." He says, a twinge coming into his calm expression. "Says he found out who killed my sister and he needed help."

"Wha... wait, how did he find out?"

"I don't know, and I didn't ask." He quickly answers. "All he said was he heard that some thug got paid a lot of money to kill my sister and make it look like a robbery. He eventually told me that he'd gotten the guy to talk and he dropped my sister's name. He looked me up and got in contact with me about six months ago."

"You've been meeting with him?"

"It's been different stops every time. You can't track him." He beats her to her question.

Kate lets out a small breath and looks away. "How much did you tell him?"

"Everything," LT quickly answers, still not giving her his eyes. "I laid it all out the first night he came to me. About your mother, about Montgomery and the dirty cops, about how they came after you. He told me to contact him if we got anything else."

"So you told him about Maddox and the break-in to Montgomery's house." Kate follows through.

"I told him I thought we had a mole in the Twelfth. There's no other way they could've known we were onto them again."

"That's when he tracked down Ballard."

"I never gave him Ballard's name, specifically. He was shocked too." LT says, his voice full as he defends himself. "All he asked me for... was the gun that shot you. That's it."

Kate looks back over the table to LT, seeing him still look down into his lap. "Why?"

LT sniffles again, his eyes welling up with tears. "To send a message."

It's then that he leans forward, putting his hands on the table and showing that he has a small picture in his handcuffed hands. His own version of a ring around his neck. His own memento, reminding him why he does this. A picture of his little sister. "LT... we need to find Derricks."

"You don't." He says. After a tense moment, he finally looks up over the picture in his hands, looking Kate directly in the eye over his tears. "He finds you."

All she can do is accept his answer, stand up and walk out of interrogation and back out into the bullpen, where Castle is already waiting for her, but not for the reason that Ryan, Esposito, and Gates are. She can tell by the deep crease in his forehead. "What did he say?" Gates is the first to ask, somewhat annoyed.

Kate pushes her hair back, steps up to Castle's side, and shakes her head. "He doesn't know where to find Derricks. All he did was drop the rifle off. Derricks never even gave him a name."

"So, what's that mean?" Ryan asks. "I-I mean, LT was just-"

"I'm well aware, Detective Ryan. But ultimately, the desicion is up to the..." Kate stops listening to Gates and Ryan bickering and decides to pace away from them.

She knows that he's following her by the feeling of his hand softly touching her back. "Hey," He calls for her.

Kate breathes and wrangles in her emotions as she turns to him, close enough to be considered unprofessional for their setting, but she doesn't care. "It was the senator, Rick. He was behind everything."

"Yeah, well, I... kind of..." He says, shrugging his shoulders. They all kind of knew already once they saw the pictures. "Did he tell you where to find Derricks."

"He doesn't know. And from the way he said, he doesn't want us to find him. I mean... I don't... what am I supposed to be feeling here, Castle?"

His brow knits and his eyes shine with a deep worry for her. He leans forward slightly and puts a soft hand on her arm. "What do you mean, hun?"

Her heart swells slightly at his use of a petname between them. "This is everything I wanted, Castle. I mean, this is the big break I've been searching for. I finally know who it was that killed my mom. I finally have the chance to get the answers I need, but-"

"Mr. Castle," Gates calls for him. He quickly turns and her eyes look over his shoulder to see Gates waving him over. She can hear him sigh and feel him give her arm a squeeze before saying he'll be right back and move to go talk to Gates and the others.

It's then that her phone rings in her pocket. She groans inwardly and pulls it out to answer, but is frozen when the ID reads _Ballard._ She looks back to Castle and Gates and sees them occupied in their conversation, then takes a few steps toward the wall and answers the call. "Hello?"

The voice on the other end of the line is smooth and deep. "Kate Beckett?"

Kate checks her surroundings again before continuing. "Who is this?"

"This is 2nd Lt. Greg Derricks." He answers with confidence.

"Derricks... you need to turn yourself in." She says in a hushed voice.

"I can't do that, Ms. Beckett."

"Derricks, you have the entire government after you."

"I know how to stay hidden, Ms. Beckett. If I don't want to be found, rest assured, I won't be."

"This..." She starts, "why did you do this?"

"Lisa was all I had, Ms. Beckett. She was the one who showed me that I could have a life beyond the uniform. When she died, I swore to make sure whoever was responsible faced justice." He explains in a confident voice.

"Justice?" She asks. "Greg, this wasn't justice. This was revenge."

Derricks' voice shifts into an angry hiss in an instant. "If this was about revenge, I would have left him to bleed out next to a dumpster for the _rats_ to feed on!" Kate's voice and heart are stopped in her throat at his anger. "Like he did with Lisa."

She lets out a smal, composing breath and continues. "What happened?"

After another second, Derricks voice is smooth and confident again. "After you caught the hitman that killed your mother, it seems Bracken got smart. He got someone working for him to pay a thug to do it. The same thing happened with your friend's sister. With you, they didn't have a choice but to go professional."

"The thug you tortured."

"I seeded myself in the area that Lisa was killed and started hearing rumors of some kid flashing too much money around for his age. I tracked him down and got him to talk. He eventually confessed and told me that a guy by the name of Cole Maddox had paid him to kill Monica, your friend's sister. I intended to let him go, but when he confessed that he was the one that killed Lisa also... I still had a promise to keep."

"And Bracken, the senator? How'd you find him?"

"Maddox's trail wasn't hard to pick up. I followed him for a while until I knew he had a list of contacts in his pocket. After I put him down, I swiped it and looked over all the names and found one that popped out."

"Ballard."

"Your friend said he thought there was a mole in your precinct. His name was the only one that belonged to a cop. I tracked him down and followed him. He'd called Bracken to let him know about Maddox. From the conversation I overheard, Bracken had ordered him to kill you and your boyfriend. Killing him wasn't in my plan, but I didn't want to risk your life."

"Ballard was..." She begins weakly.

"It seems like it, Ms. Beckett. All I had to do after that was take his phone and look up the number. I got the name and brought Lisa's killer to justice."

"Derricks," She says, her voice little more than a shaky whisper, "why are you telling me all this?"

"In a few moments, Ms. Beckett, a courier will come up to you. He'll be wearing a white hoodie, zipped up half way, a red, flat-billed had, and black tennis shoes. He'll be holding a large, tan, envelope. He'll ask you if you accept the delivery. That envelope has the file that Maddox was sent to find. With it, you can finish the investigation."

"B-but..." Kate stutters, "Bracken is already dead."

"He was just the main player, Ms. Beckett. There's a lot more to this story than you're probably aware. And if anyone has the skills to uncover everything, it's you."

Kate feels her heart harden and her gut stir. She can feel her hard shell starting to form over her. "And if I don't accept the delivery?"

"That's up for you to decide, Ms. Beckett." He says.

* * *

"Goodbye, Ms. Beckett." He says into the reciever of the phone and quickly presses end, letting his hand fall down to his side.

He takes one last, long breath, feeling the salty, cold air whip across his face. "We just passed 24 nautical miles. We're in international waters now."

Greg takes out one of his last stacks of cash and hands it to the captain. "Thank you, Captain."

The captain nods and heads back down the bow of the ship. Greg looks down at the phone in his hand, breathes a sigh, and tosses it over the railing and into the ocean. He then digs out into his pocket and pulls out the last memory he'll have of himself, the last keepsake he'll have of her. The ring he'll never get to put on her finger. "I love you, Lisa."

* * *

Once the line goes dead with a click, she's left with her heart in her throat, her chest pounding.

"You Beckett?" A teenage voice asks in front of her.

A young kid, no later than twenty, wearing a white hoodie that's zipped up only half way, and a red billed hat turned around, is holding a large, tan envelope in one hand. "Yes."

The kid leans the envelope forward, "Do you accept?"

It's then that Kate feels her heart freeze. This is everything she wanted just weeks ago. Everything she worked for. A few weeks ago, she would have given everything for what's in this envelope. There's the names of all the people connected to her mother's murder in that file. All the people who were paid off, who were silenced, who were bribed, lied to, conned. There's no telling just how many victim's are in that file. But just a moment of her looking at the envelope and she feels a familiar touch against her back.

She looks to her side and sees him, stepping up to her side with a soft, worryful smile. Her desicion is made in that instant.

"No." She tells the courier.

Without another word, the kid nods, stuffs the envelope under his arm and quickly skips out of the precinct. Castle's brow knits in utter confusion as he steps in closer to her, pulling her into his side. "What was that about?"

Kate smiles warmly and puts her arms around his chest. "It was nothing, baby." She says, gazing lovingly at her future. "Hey," She calls for his attention.

Rick looks back at her, a soft raise in his brow.

"Do you know what I want?" She asks him.

"To go home? This place is getting kind of hectic for my taste." He says, pulling her in with his arms around her.

She hums and shakes her head, pressing up and kissing him sweetly. "I only want you."

 **END**


End file.
